Sweet Cider and Swans
by Ravensknowledge
Summary: Prohibition has outlawed the sale of magic in 1920s America, but sorceress Regina Mills runs a speak-easy out of her bar where patrons can purchase charms, potions, and her famous apple cider. But the town's mayor wants Regina's operation shut down-and he's willing to pay any price, including the salary of bounty hunter Emma Swan. But there are darker forces at work in Storybrooke.
1. Chapter 1

****Disclaimer**** I don't own any of these characters, or Once Upon a Time. If I did, it would be a lot better

A boy stepped carefully, doing his best to remain unseen and unheard. He was young, barely ten years old, but he was as clever as a fox and as quiet as a cat. There was a party raging downstairs, and though the noise might have drowned out his footsteps, his mother was even slier than he was and she would know in a heartbeat if he was out of bed. It was important careful. She had sent him to bed an hour ago but he had lain awake waiting for his opportunity.

He crept stealthily down the darkened hallway toward the stairs and stepped silently down one, then another, and squatted. He held the thin slats and peered down below. His eyes were large with fascination as he looked at the people. He knew most of them since their town wasn't a large one but he rarely saw them in a party atmosphere, and his mother said he was not old enough to attend. Not yet, anyway. But just a quick peek and then he would have to go back to bed.

Everyone, it seemed, had a drink in their hand. The smell of his mom's famous apple cider drifted on the air, mixing delicately with the stronger scents of cigarette smoke and perfume. There were twenty or thirty people in his mom's place. She owned a bar called The Mill. Henry had grown up here, the only home he had ever known, and while he loved it he found himself wanting.

"Where's Henry?" he heard someone ask. He flinched, the sound of his name causing his stomach to contract with fear that he had been spied.

"Probably in bed. He's – what, nine now?"

Archie Hopper and Ruby Lucas. Henry knew them both. Doctor Hopper was the town shrink. Ruby had been a teenage runaway his mother had taken in a few years ago. She was something of an aunt and big sister, and she worked in the bar with his mom.

"Ten," Ruby corrected. There was a slight reprimand in her voice, as though she expected better of him. Doctor Hopper's face reddened slightly at the reprieve. Ruby, young and beautiful, had plenty of admirers in town all seeking her approval. Carrying a tray of apple cider glasses, she passed Hopper and into the crowd to hand out the drinks. The party was in The Mill, of course, the only place in this town to have a real party except the stern galas at the Mayor's House. These parties were louder, bawdier, and far more interesting as far as Henry was concerned. The Mill was an old building constructed from heavy oak and solid stone over a hundred years ago. The bar was laden with food and gleamed golden in the warm light. His mom kept it meticulously clean and oiled, running a rag over it each night with tender care. There was a piano in one corner but tonight its pale keys were silent, replaced by a phonograph his mom had bought a few months ago. Bright, cheery jazz music poured out into the room. Earlier, Regina had made a dance space and now, as Ruby passed through the crowd nearly every group asked her to join them. They were a raucous crowd, and how anyone expected Henry to sleep through this, he didn't know, which is exactly what he planned on saying if anyone caught him and handed him over to his mother.

And speaking of his mother…

His eyes scanned the crowd but he didn't see her. Of course, she had a flair for the dramatic and was probably waiting for the right moment to make her entrance.

And just as he wondered where she was, the kitchen doors burst open and the crowd turned to face the woman standing there. She was a beautiful woman, regal, and surveyed the crowd as a queen might. In her graceful hands was a small, golden pot that let off a powerful but pleasant fragrance. Henry recognised the smell of a fresh batch of her famous apple cider. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling his mouth water.

"Good evening, and thank you for joining me tonight," Regina called out to the crowd. There were whistles and shouts in response and she waited for them to quiet before continuing. "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves. I've just whipped up this fresh cider, if anyone would like to try some. I'm sure you'll find it… _enchanting_."

There were a few knowing looks passed among the guests, nudges, whispers, and eager smiles.

Regina lifted the gold-coloured pot slightly. "For what ails you," she said.

Ruby came through the crowd and took the pot from Regina and the crowd surged forward, everyone wanting a glass, a taste. Ruby's eyes widened and Regina's flashed.

"Hold on, dears," she said. At her words the crowd paused, held by the spell of her voice. Her dark eyes moved over the crowd. "One at a time. Be respectful, because anyone who forgets their manners won't get a glass of cider. Is that understood?"

Her eyes moved through the crowd, and her smile reappeared when she saw that order was restored. She nodded to Ruby, who moved behind the bar and picked up a ladle to start serving. The crowd moved around the bar, more slowly this time, gently, but no less eager. As they moved around her and she through them, Regina touched shoulders, asked about family members and businesses. Henry froze, watching her carefully, as she walked to the back of the room – near his hiding place at the top of the stairs. But she turned her back to him and folded her arms, surveying her handiwork.

Henry could have sighed with relief, but he held back in case he made a noise.

"And just what do you think you're doing out of bed?"

She looked over her shoulder directly into his eyes. Caught. Again. This time Henry did sigh.

"_Mom_," he protested, pushing his face against the wooden rails and peering at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could manage. "It's so loud, how could I sleep? And besides, I'm ten years old, I'm not a baby anymore. Why can't I come to one of your parties?"

Now she turned her whole body toward him. "Henry, you know why. These parties are for adults."

"They're for your clients," he shot at her.

She tilted her head slightly. Her eyes seemed to grow darker and her voice was sharp when she spoke, all warning signs that he was in trouble. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Mom, I told you, I'm not just some dumb kid anymore. You're selling magic, which is against the law, I might add. Given the situation, I think that's a little more serious than me staying up late and sneaking into a party."

She pursed her lips, definitely a sign that he had hit a nerve. His mother was a dangerous woman. He had the feeling he wasn't going to see any desserts for a while.

"I don't know what you think you know, Henry. But if I were you, I would get certain ideas out of my head, and I would go upstairs and get into bed."

He opened his mouth to protest, about to argue the unfairness of his situation, when there was a horrible bang on the front door. It rattled the walls and rained dust from the ceiling. Henry flinched and grabbed the stair rails tightly. Regina turned sharply toward the door, her face draining of colour.

"Mom! What - what was that?"

"Henry, get upstairs, now," she ordered. "Ruby -"

Ruby nodded. With the steaming cauldron in her hands, she ran through the kitchen doors and disappeared. The crowd was talking loudly now, confused and frightened, and some of them yelled when a second bang shook the house.

"Everyone just remain calm," Regina said. Her voice rang out loudly and the crowd stilled under her influence. She walked to the door, took a deep breath to brace herself, and then opened it. Immediately the room filled with people in dark uniforms and Regina had to step quickly back to keep herself from getting trampled. "What are you doing here," she said, her face flushed and angry. Like a blue tidal wave, the police officers surged through the Mill, shoving Regina's guests aside with rough hands, searching purses and pockets, they tore apart the bar and the kitchen, opening containers and dumping the contents on the floor. Regina yelled, calling for order and demanding to know why these men were here, but her voice couldn't be heard over the screams of the crowd and the yells of the officers.

From outside the cold, starry night, a single man in a neat brown suit stepped into the bar. He held his jacket over one shoulder and his hat was tilted on his head. A shiny badge glared balefully from his hip. As if sensing his presence Regina went still and watched him, her eyes cold and fierce.

"Regina, Regina, Regina. Imagine, you threw a party and forgot to invite us. I'm insulted."

Her eyes were cold enough to kill and her voice was venom. "Sheriff Graham. I might have known you'd try something tonight. And here I thought my little get-together was a private affair."

He gave her a falsely wounded look and began to walk back and forth, lifting up glasses and opening up the closet door full of coats and hats, moving plates and searching, though for what, Henry wasn't sure. Behind him, a man even crueller than Sheriff Graham slipped quietly into the bar with a second unit of officers. Constable George Spencer, Graham's second-in-command, stood behind his boss and looked at Regina with cold eyes.

"Oh, dear me. I really was hoping you'd just forgotten to invite me. But Regina, you must know, nothing is kept secret from me. Nothing." Graham's voice dropped several degrees at the last word. "You can't hide anything from me." His eyes scanned the room, looking at every face with cold precision.

"You mean a person can't hide anything from you and the Mayor's office. How long has it been since you sold yourself out to them, Graham? How much does the Mayor pay you to run the town his way?"

Something she said must have gotten under his skin. A vein began to twitch in his neck and his eyes were cold. He stepped close to Regina but she didn't back away from him. He glared down at her. "You're going to stumble someday, Regina, and you better believe I'll be there. The Huntsman always gets his witch." He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through a tress of her dark hair. Grimacing with disgust, Regina jerked away from him. He laughed and took a step away.

Constable Spencer turned to the officers he had come in with. "Search upstairs," he ordered, and held his hands on his hips. The pistol on his hip gleamed nastily in the light. His officers ran up the stairs where Henry was crouching, and before he could say or do anything one of them grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.

"Hey!" he said, kicking at his captor and clawing at the man's hands.

"Henry!" Regina hurried forward but Graham grabbed her arm and held her tightly. "Let me go!'" she said, her voice ringing powerfully. "Henry!"

The officer dragged Henry down the stairs, not without difficulty, and Constable Spencer took him by the arm, holding him tightly enough that his skin turned white and Henry grimaced. Spencer was a long time enemy of Regina's and the sight of him hurting her son made her boil with anger.

"Let him go," Graham said to Spencer.

Spencer looked at him as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Reluctantly he released his grip on Henry. Free, Henry ran to his mother and threw his arms around her waist. Upstairs he could hear the strange men overturning furniture in the house that he and his mother shared. He suspected they were searching for evidence but he doubted they would find anything. After all, he was cleverer than they were and his mother had managed to hide her spell work from him for ages. Still, he couldnt help but be afraid. Graham and Spencer were out to get Regina, even since Prohibition became law, becoming increasingly intense the longer she managed to elude him. But Graham had never gone so far as to invade her business or the apartment above where she and Henry lived.

Regina jerked her arm and this time Graham let her pull free. She wrapped her arms around Henry protectively and glared at Sheriff Graham ferociously while her life was torn apart around her. "Search all you want, Graham," she said with a growl in her voice, "you're never going to find anything because there is nothing to find."

He narrowed his eyes. "There's something to find, Mills, and I'll be the one to bring you down. You wait."

"Well, with the competency so often displayed by the Sheriff's office I expect I'll be waiting a very long time," Regina said coldly, but she wrapped her arms more tightly around her son.

Graham watched her with a cold smile. Behind him an officer approached Spencer and whispered in his ear. Spencer nodded and then came up beside Graham. Leering at Regina in her purple cocktail dress, to Graham he said, "There's nothing anywhere. The bitch hides it good."

Graham's eyes flashed and Regina smiled.

"I don't know what you think you'll find, Graham. I'm as innocent as anyone." Her voice was light but there was a challenge there, too.

He ignored her, the vein pulsing again and his face reddening.

"All right. Fine. Let's clear out of here." Graham spat the words. Obviously he was beyond disappointed that he had not found any incriminating evidence. Locking Regina away had been on his list nearly as long as he had known her. It would please his boss, who would see fit to reward him greatly.

Spencer didn't like the idea of leaving empty-handed any more than Graham did, but he turned and barked orders for the other officers to clear out of the bar. They filed out, shoving aside guests and making even more of a mess than they had already created. Graham, however, lingered. "We'll be back, Regina. Don't think we won't."

"I'll make sure there's a warm pot of cider on for you," she snapped to his turned back.

At the door he gave her a last, baleful glare. "I will find what I need, Regina. Mark my words."

She followed him to the door, her red lips smiling. Ruby pushed through the crowd and took Regina's place, wrapping her arms around Henry's shoulders.

"You know, Graham," Regina said, smiling in that superior way she knew enraged the sheriff, "you may think you're the big bad wolf of this town but we both know you're nothing more than a mangy cur. Now get out of my bar and next time, don't come back without a search warrant or you'll find more than you bargained for."

The smile had disappeared and she slammed the door in his angry face. Heaving a heavy sigh Regina smoothed her dress, squared her shoulders, and prepared to address her panicky guests. Turning around she met Ruby's gaze and the pair exchanged a dark, meaningful look. The crowd seemed to still under her influence, as if she were their queen giving a royal address instead of some barmaid. They calmed and waited for her to speak. She could smell their anxiety and their fear. "I'm sorry about all that. I'm afraid to say there won't be any more cider tonight, and there probably won't be any more-" she hesitated, her gaze lingering for a moment on Henry's face, "anymore… transactions until things with the sheriff's office have calmed down a little, but I'll do my best to remain of service to my loyal customers and I will let you know when you can begin to make purchases again. Now, if you'll forgive me for being rude, I think it's time you all went home now. The Sheriff will be… upset, so it's best you all be careful. Don't draw attention to yourselves and stay out of trouble."

There was a lot of muttering as her guests filed out of the bar. Most of them looked at her as they left, giving her dirty looks or concerned glances and anything in between. Hopper paused at the door, holding everyone up, his mouth open and Regina knew he was going to offer her a chance to talk. "I'm fine," Regina said, a little sharply, and Archie nodded and left.

With the last person out of the door Regina shut it quickly and slammed the lock into place. "Henry?" she said, holding out her arms and taking his shoulders. She knelt in front of him, shaking, but she tried not to show him how badly frightened she was. "Are you all right? Oh, Henry, I'm so sorry." She folded him in her arms and leaned her head against him. Her little prince. She loved him more than anything else in the world. She would be lost without him.

"I'm all right mom. _Really_," he said, a little impatiently. She held him a little longer before letting him go. Standing, she paced back and forth, and kicked a chair out of anger. Candles were arranged decoratively on a shelf behind Regina and they flared with sudden fire in time with Regina's anger. Ruby, who had been righting furniture, stopped and watched Regina carefully.

"_Magic_." Regina spat the word with venom. Her eyes blazed with fire. "Spells. Potions. Selling magic s what got me into all this trouble. I'll have to stop."

"Mom – "

She looked sharply at her son and her face softened. "Henry, I started selling magic because of you – for you – to earn enough money to send you through school so you could get away from all of this. But now the wolves are howling at our door. No. No, it's not safe anymore, for any of us, but especially for you."

"But mom –"

"They could have hurt you. They can still hurt you, and if they do…"

The fire of the candles behind her burned with a bright, angry red light as Regina's face turned dark with malice.

"If they do you'll find me, you always find me, and you'll fight them the way you always do. Mom, you have magic and they don't. It makes you special. You always tell me to live up to my potential and you need to do the same. You can't give up, not now."

His cheeks were flushed and his voice was passionate. He looked at her earnestly and with love. Regina glanced at Ruby, who was smiling. Regina crossed her arms and looked at her son, her anger dissipated like vapour on the wind.

"And how long have you been practicing that speech?" she asked sternly, but she felt the start of a smile at the corners of her lips.

His face relaxed into a broad smile. He knew he had her, and she knew it too. "I've had it in mind since I found out you were selling your magic, but most of it I imprvised." He had his arms crossed over his small chest and he bounced on the balls of his feet, obviously pleased with himself.

It was enough to draw a small chuckle from Regina. Looking at Ruby, who had gone back to fixing up the room now that Regina's temper was diffused, she said, "Now we know they're starting to get desperate. It isn't good, but at least we know and that means we can prepare for another raid." Smiling, her dark eyes flashing, Regina bent to look Henry in the eye. "How about you and I start cooking up some spell?"

His smile was so broad you would have thought Christmas had come early.


	2. Chapter 2

It was long past Henry's bedtime before Regina, Ruby, and Henry cleaned the upstairs apartment enough so that Henry could be tucked in. He was obviously less upset by the night's events than Regina. She could not believe that the Sheriff would dare to invade her bar, her _home_, and frighten her son – and herself. They would pay, she vowed, while she stood in the doorway of her bedroom and looked in on Henry again. She had no intention of sending him to school the next day or letting him leave her sight at all. She needed to protect him and keep him safe.

If she wanted revenge on Sheriff Graham, and the men that were his masters, she would have to be cunning, and careful above all.

Closing the bedroom door, Regina padded back down the dark hall and into her small living room. Ruby was sitting by the window sipping on a cider beer and staring absently at the floor, the frown on her face an indication that she was deep in thought. Regina's return started her from her reverie.

"Still sleeping?" Ruby asked with a small smile.

Regina shot her an impatient look. "You can't blame a mother for worrying about her child after the night we've had." She resumed her seat across from Ruby and picked up her own glass of cider beer, but she just held it idly in her hand. The beer was homemade, an old family recipe that her mother, Cora, had taught her. She wished her mother was here now. Cora been a formidable woman, a powerful witch, and a cunning schemer. She would have known what to do. But she had taught her daughter well, and while Regina hadn't always been the perfect student, she had enough Cora in her to deal with these fools.

"What are you going to do about Graham? And the Mayor?" Ruby asked quietly.

Regina glanced at her, and then sighed and set her glass on the table. "They've been trying to drive me out for years, Ruby. There was always bad blood between the Mayor and my mother. I guess I inherited it, and some of it I deserve, but I will be damned if I'm going to let him win." Everything about her was fierce and predatory. Her eyes, looking into the small fire in the grate, burned brighter than any flame and her fingernails dug into the fabric of her armchair. Her face was ugly; Ruby felt uneasy.

"Maybe…" She hesitated and bit her lip nervously. "Maybe we should just… go."

Regina's eyes widened and she leaned back in her chair, looking at Ruby with something in her eyes that Ruby couldn't read. "Go? And what, skip town? Let them win?"

"Think about Henry," Ruby said quickly. Regina looked toward her bedroom door, where Henry was still sleeping soundly, and her expression softened slightly. "Henry could get caught in the crossfire if you go to war with these people. You know what the mayor is like, Regina, who knows how far he'll go?"

Regina looked back to her friend, a cold smile twisting her face into something ugly. "If they hurt my son, if they dare to come anywhere near him, then I'll just have to hurt them back. I've been hiding from them for too long, Ruby, skulking in the shadows, dealing pendants and small charms like a simple peddler. I'm tired of running and hiding. I'm tired of hiding my true potential. They've held sway over this town for too long, Ruby, and it's time to take it back. They think I'm a threat now? Well, they haven't seen anything yet." She took a swig of cider and slammed the glass on the table, splashing beer everywhere. Ruby bit her lip but she didn't say anything. She knew better than to do so when Regina was in one of these moods. All Ruby could do was stick by her friend and hope that everything would work out. The idea of leaving Regina, of running and striking out on her own, was a tempting one but she quashed the idea almost as soon as it occurred. Leaving Regina would mean leaving Henry. He was like a little brother, or a nephew. She loved him. Besides, if a war was going to break out between Regina and the mayor, then Henry was going to need all the protection Ruby could offer.

Sheriff Graham sat in the mayor's office with his hat in his hands. He glanced up at the mayor and then looked quickly away. The room was familiar to him but he was still uncomfortable. The walls and carpet were white, a stark contrast to the black furniture. It was a cold and clinical room that reminded Graham of winter's frost and the bitter crispness of the wind. There was art on the walls but Graham could never recognize any forms or figures. That strange modern art. He detested it except that it was the only splash of colour in an otherwise colourless room. There wasn't even a speck of dust.

Graham shifted in his chair. The mayor's own chair was an expensive and comfortable leather armchair while the seats reserved for his visitors were wooden, hard, and gave their occupants no comfort whatsoever.

The mayor stood behind his desk with his back to the sheriff, looking out the large window at the town below. His hands were folded behind his back. Not one muscle moved. He could have been a statue.

Graham was not what one would call a good man. In fact, he was a bad man who had done bad things, which had eventually led him, years ago, into this very office where the man across from him threatened his life and then offered a choice: death, or employment. Graham had chosen life, and with the new powers given to him by the sheriff's office he discovered new forms of cruelty. He was a bad man indeed, but even he was afraid of the mayor. The boss' long silence was making Graham uneasy, and even though he didn't want to disturb the mayor, he couldn't sit there any longer. He cleared his throat to get his boss' attention.

The mayor turned his head. "Graham?"

"I just – I wonder – well, what are you going to do next? What do you want me to do? About her, about the witch?"

"About Regina, you mean," he said, turning his head back toward the window. "Regina Mills."

Graham watched him carefully, nervous. Leopold King had been mayor of Storybrooke for years and he was not a man to be trifled with under any circumstance. Tall, lean, white-haired, and blue-eyed, he cut an imposing figure in Graham's eyes, although he was often underestimated by the unintelligent and the misinformed. Leo was a businessman and when he wanted something he stopped at nothing to get it. If anyone would stand up to him, or stand against him… well, that's what Graham's office was there to take care of. Problems like Regina Mills and her tramp friend, Ruby.

"Her mother was a spitfire," King said.

"I never knew her."

"Shame. I knew her quite well. Intimately, you might say. Lovely woman, but cold. It's a miracle she even kept Regina when she was born, but I imagine she at least thought about throwing her newborn into the river."

Graham shifted nervously. He would be far more comfortable if he didn't have to go over all this family history. What did King want him to do?

King turned and smiled at Graham, although the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. That smile always made Graham feel… unsettled.

"What do you want me to do about Mills?" he repeated, hoping to distract himself from that smile.

"Now that is a question." King ran a hand along the back of the armchair and flicked off a speck of dust, glaring at the dirt on his finger with a critical eye. "We can't have her selling her type of magic. It's bad for business. It interferes with my product and I don't like competition, Graham. Competitors are not good for business. I'm a fair man, wouldn't you say?"

"Absolutely, sir," he said, perhaps a little too quickly because King smiled at him with condescension. There was a vicious gleam in his eyes.

"So first I'll take the fair approach. Explain a few things to Regina, offer her a few deals, lay out her options, and allow her to decide her next move."

"And if she makes the wrong choice?"

King's eyes were cold and Graham shivered. Unconsciously he drew back while Leo King bared his teeth in a menacing grin. "Well then, Graham, we'll just have to take care of her, won't we? And when I say 'we' I of course mean you. I hope you're prepared to deal with something like this, Graham. I may need to rely very heavily on you. The rewards will be great, of course – but if you fail me…"

He let the sentence hang ominously but Graham didn't need him to finish to fully encompass King's threat. People had disappeared before, hell, Graham had helped them disappear. He knew very well the fate that awaited anyone to fail Leopold King.

Sensing their meeting was coming to a close, and glad to leave anyway, Graham stood. "You want me to keep an eye on her in the meantime?"

"Obviously," King said with a sneer. He pulled out his chair and took a seat, and then took a small mirror from a desk draw, which he propped up on his desk. He started fixing his already prim and handsome suit, and smoothed down the sides of his head where his hair still grew. He addressed Graham without bothering to look at him. "Keep the pressure on her, let her know I'm not going to abide her disobedience. But be careful. I would hate for anything to happen to that pretty face of hers." He straightened his tie, and then licked his fingers and smoothed down one of his sideburns.

"And the boy?"

"Henry?" Leo asked, looking up. He shrugged. "The boy is of no consequence. Leave him be, for now anyway. I don't see the point in harassing a ten-year-old boy."

"He could be an important bargaining chip," Graham said.

Leo didn't seem interested in discussing it further. He had gone back to tidying his appearance and examined himself carefully in the mirror, poking here, prodding there, all with a disinterested but critical look on his lined face. "He could be. But we'll give Regina a chance before we take the fight to a child."

"Just wanted to point out the option, sir," Graham said, turning and heading toward the door.

"You're a cold-hearted bastard," King said. There was a nasty chuckle in King's voice and Graham thought of shooting off a smart reply about who the _real_ bastard was, but he knew better. He kept his silence and let himself quietly out of the office.

Seated at his impressive and immaculately clean desk, King gave himself a last check in the mirror before he stowed it away in his desk. He had another meeting scheduled in the next few minutes and wanted to look impressive. Intimidating, even.

Hardly a minute had passed when there was a knock on the door. Without looking up from his paperwork King called for his secretary to enter.

"Mayor King, there is a Mister and Missus Mendel here to see you."

He nodded, and then as what she said registered, he looked and fixed her with that look that made so many cower. He narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

Her eyes darted around the room and then moved back to his. Maintaining eye contact looked like pain for her. King didn't care. "Greg and Tamara Mendel, sir. They say they were sent by your potential business partner, but that's all, they didn't give a name."

King sighed and threw down his fountain pen. The sudden ugly look on his face made his secretary jump and take a step back. She watched him carefully but he hardly looked at her. He sighed again, this time as a measure of exasperation, and picked up his pen. "Thank you, Miss Blue. Would you be so kind as to make me a cup of coffee?"

She blinked and nodded, uneasy. "Of – of course, sir. What would you like me to do about the Mendels?"

King had already gone back to scribbling notes. "Show them in in a few minutes, after I get my coffee."

"Yes, sir," she said, and scurried out of his office.

A while later, after she had set the coffee on his desk, he told her she could send in his visitors.

He'd met them only once before, briefly. It was their boss he was interested in. Greg and Tamara were just middle-mem, and not very good ones at that. They walked into the room looking angry at King for forcing them to wait. King was bent over his paperwork so he couldn't see their faces, but he could sense everything they were feeling. His cold eyes glittered.

"Sit down, please," he said without looking up.

They shared a glance and followed his instruction, and then waited for him to finish whatever he was doing. King made sure to take his time. Finally, he put down his pen, laced his fingers together, and looked at the unhappy pair seated across from him.

"Are you ready to talk business now, King?" Tamara Mendel asked, quirking her eyebrow at him. Her face was rigid with irritation; her whole body was taut with anger.

King smiled. The expression held no warmth. "Mrs. Mendel, I apologise for my rudeness. As mayor of a town this size I have quite a lot of business that needs my urgent attention, and if things aren't attended to in a timely manner then certain, awful things can happen. Do you understand?"

"I understand and I don't like what you're implying." Her black eyes glittered fiercely. "You don't scare us. Even with all your country pumpkin bought-for police officers, we aren't scared. We're used to a bigger, badder boss."

King opened up his hands and made a face that said, 'You could be right'. He could spend all the time he wanted brow-beating and intimidating this pair but the truth was that they simply didn't matter. They were only a step on a far greater and more glorious path. Their boss, now _he_ was the real deal and his product was what King needed. Tamara and Greg were simply his agents, and hopefully King could start dealing with their boss directly.

"All right, here's the thing. We want everything now," Greg said. It was the first time King heard him speak.

King moved his gaze to Tamara's husband. His eyes were icy and Greg, who was not made of the same stern stuff as his wife, shifted uncomfortably. "No," King said.

"No?" Tamara said. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Why the surprise, Mrs. Mendel? I give you all the money now and then I never see my product. Business relationships are built on trust and good, solid contracts. Not on hand-outs and prayers."

She stiffened, obviously offended. "You can trust us," she said. The words barely escaped her gritted teeth.

King eyed her through narrowed eyes. "Why should I?"

"Because if you know anything about us – about _him_ – you'll know he never makes a deal he doesn't honour."

"It's bad for business," Greg said.

"Bad for business…" King straightened a few stray pens on his desk. "That seems to be the theme of my day. You see, my new problem is that I've never met your boss. I haven't even had a phone call or a simple telegram so any deal I make isn't with him but with you two. Perhaps Mr. Gold honours his agreements but can you say the same?"

"We're his representatives, he honours any deal we make we make in his name," Tamara said, her cheeks flushing bright red. Her husband flicked his eyes to her and then looked back to King with distaste.

"I would feel a lot more comfortable if I could meet Mr. Gold," King said, making sure to keep his voice calm and reasonable.

"Mister Gold is a busy man," Greg said, glaring at King.

"I understand that. But if there was any way…"

"There isn't," Tamara snapped. She was glaring at King without bothering to hide her dislike. Beside her, her husband twitched nervously but tried to remain composed.

King smiled at the pair of them. After all, it had taken months of quiet conversations with the right people, secret meetings, favours exchanged, and paying people off to get him anywhere close to meeting the man these two called their boss. He couldn't afford to ruin everything now when he was so close. So King smiled and tried to make it look genuine. "This isn't going to get us anywhere. Let's discuss terms. You want everything I have now and you're just going to give me your word that my goods will be delivered to me, I think you can understand why I find this unacceptable. And really, I'm a businessman who's been playing this game… well, probably longer than either of you have been alive. It's insulting that you would even try to present those terms to me." He paused but got no reaction from them other than a smoldering glare from Tamara and a nervous twitch from Greg. "I'll forgive the slight because I'm interested in building a business relationship with your boss. He's the best there is, but he's not the only one out there. I'd hate to go to someone else, I really would, so let's see what kind of arrangement we can make that's acceptable for all parties concerned."

"What do you want?" Tamara asked. He knew he had her.

"Half now, half when the product is delivered, and if I like what I get I'll extend our relationship into a long-term contract, with a ten percent bonus from my end to yours."

Tamara and Greg exchanged a look.

"If you need some time to discuss my offer I'll be happy to excuse myself for a few minutes."

"We want a fifty percent increase from you," Greg said.

King was surprised that he had spoken instead of Tamara. Apparently the wretch had a spine after all. "Twenty."

"Thirty," Tamara said.

"Twenty-five."

"Deal," Tamara said, her lips curving into a thin smile that lacked warmth.

They didn't stay much longer. King offered them drinks to cement their new business relationship, and they agreed although it was obvious the pair wanted out of there as soon as was polite. They drank their scotch quickly and were civil, chatting about Storybrooke and the weather as though they were in the same compartment on a train instead of three strangers with a mutual dislike of each other. As soon as they were gone King closed the door behind them and turned back into his office with an ugly expression on his face. He went to his bar and slammed his glass down hard, causing the empty tumblers to shake and rattle. He didn't appreciate being pushed around by a pair of nobodies, even if their boss was infamous and powerful. He didn't make deals with peasants. He was Leopold King, Mayor of Storybrooke. But he supposed if he was just entering the black market trade on magic and magical objects he would have to take what he could get for now. He was a smart man, and cunning. He wouldn't be a no one, not for long.

"I understand you wanted to see me."

King whirled. Standing in front of the mayor's desk, hands folded over the top of his cane and surveying King with sharp, penetrating eyes was a man he had never seen before and whom he certainly hadn't invited into his office. The door hadn't opened or closed, and Miss Blue would never let someone in here unannounced, so –

"How did you get in here?" He was thinking of the gun he kept hidden in his desk drawer.

"I have my ways," the stranger said. There was a slightly mocking tone in his voice and which gleamed in his unforgiving eyes. Those eyes now moved around the room, taking in every detail. King sensed great power and intelligence in this man and could practically hear the stranger's brain whirring as he thought.

"Magic," King said, the answer dawning on him. He stared at the other man, wondering if he was a friend or an enemy. Certainly he felt better about leaving his gun in the desk; bullets would do little against a powerful magic-user.

"Yes," the man said without hesitation. How rare these days to find a magician unafraid to admit to practicing magic when its sale had been made illegal for quite some time. Rarer still to find a man who would admit to it as freely as this one did. "Glad to know I'm dealing with such a smart man."

King narrowed his eyes at the snide tone. "I take it you're Mr. Gold," he said, forgetting the man's sniping for the moment.

"Yes," the other said again, looking bored and sounding impatient.

"What are you doing here?"

Mr. Gold sighed. When he turned around to pick up and examine some of the objects on King's desk, Leo saw that the sharp-dressed man walked with a slight limp. "You wanted to see _me_, so here I am taking time out of my day to come and see you. Now get to talking, boy, I don't have all day." Gold was a strange man, quirky, with a habit of gesturing when he spoke. King was also able to tell that Gold was a man used to power, used to telling people what to do and having them do it without question, not out of loyalty but out of fear. A dangerous man. He was also cold, calculating, and the sort of man who liked to cut to the heart of things. King respected that.

"What I'm really interested in is establishing a business relationship between the two of us and forging –"

"Which has already _been_ established between you and my associates. No, what you're really interested in is a demonstration of my power. You want to know if I'm really everything everyone says I am." His eyes glittered with cold ferocity.

"You can't blame a man for wanting to protect his investment," King said. A defensive note had entered his voice and he hated it. He thought it showed weakness.

"You want a demonstration of my power?" Gold said, his eyes glittering almost maliciously. "Fine. But be careful what you ask for, dearie." Gold waved his had before King could say anything. A moment later a strange and unsettling feeling wrapped itself around him and he cried out as the world around him began to change. The office was growing larger, or he was shrinking. Panic overtook him and he tried to scream but was unable to make a sound. He tried to run but could only writhe in fear. And then the world stilled and he found himself lying on the floor, with Gold as a giant looming above him. Opening his mouth to scream, only a hiss came out. He couldn't move, his own tongue felt strange in his mouth and as he writhed he caught sight of a scaly tail whipping through the air.

Gold squatted next to him, his cold, taunting face near King's. "Have you had quite enough, dearie? Dabbling with magic isn't quite what you thought it would be, is it?"

King opened his mouth again to demand Gold return him to his rightful shape. Of course, he was unable to speak a word and Gold allowed him to thrash helplessly on the floor for a few moments before straightening and undoing the spell with a wave of his hand.

The rapid return to human shape was dizzying. Restored, King lay blinking on the floor, lights flashing in his eyes and his stomach threatening to empty its contents on the expensive carpet.

"Watch the shoes," Gold said, stepping back before King could vomit. "They're crocodile."

"You bastard," King managed to gasp. He used the black leather couch to pull himself to his feet. Wobbly, he sat down quickly and glared at Gold with something akin to hatred – and fear. "You bastard," he said again, unable to express the full breadth of his emotions at the moment.

"Magic comes with a price, dearie." Gold was practically cheerful now and smiled at King for the first time. There was no warmth in the expression, only a cruel joy. "You get what you pay for so be careful when you ask."

King glared at him. What he really wanted was to punch Gold in his smug face but since his equilibrium was still thrown he just continued to sit, take deep breaths, and fume. "Fine. You're the real deal."

Gold reached into his pocket and took out an ordinary looking business card, which he passed to King. _Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer_, it read. There was also a New York address. "You run a pawnshop?" King asked disbelievingly.

"I can't very well make a living selling my magic, can I? At least, not an honest one. Now Mayor, are we done here?" No longer amused, he now seemed impatient to go.

"Wait! Will I be – all right?"

"The spell I used won't leave any lasting damage. You'll be fine."

"What did you do to me?"

"I turned you into a snake. Or rather, the magic did. That spell has a life of its own, you see. It chooses the final form you'll take, not me. Now if you'll–"

"Wait!" King leapt to his feet and even though he staggered, he managed to remain upright. "There's someone in Storybrooke, a witch. I want her gone. Permanently, if you get my meaning."

"What witch?" Gold asked impatiently.

"Her name is Regina Mills. She-"

Gold held up his hand, cutting King short. "I'm not a hitman. If you want her taken care of you'll have to do it yourself, and good luck trying."

"You know her."

"Goodbye, Mayor King," Gold said. His eyes were glittering again and this time Leo knew better than to keep him any longer. Gold snapped his fingers and disappeared. As soon as he was gone King let out a deep breath and sat down.

The business card was still in his hand. He read it again and then flipped it over. Scrawled on the back in what he assumed was Gold's handwriting was one word. _Rumpelstiltskin_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Boston, Massachusetts**

Seated at her desk, Emma Swan sighed heavily at the paperwork heaped around her. Cases had piled up while she had been away in New York, and now her workload looked impossible. She held on to her mug of hot chocolate and looked at the files, putting off the moment when she would actually have to pick one up and start working.

Finally, with another heavy sigh, she picked up the first file she saw, but before she could open it there was a knock on the door. At least she was spared another few moments.

Her boss was at the door, leaning into the room slightly. "Hey, Emma."

"Good morning, Neal." She took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked at him carefully over the rim of the mug. She liked Neal, they got along well, but she knew he had a crush on her. Not that he ever made her uncomfortable. Mostly he kept his feelings to himself, he was always respectful, and he put their business relationship first.

"Pack your bags, you're going to Storybrooke," he said.

Emma frowned. "What? I don't even know where Storybrooke is. And I just got back from New York!"

He looked uncomfortable about her protest and he gave a little shrug. "I know. I'd go myself but I have a job I'm working on in Maryland and I have to go next week. You're the only other person I have so I have to send you. I'm sorry, Emma, but these people are offering a lot of money."

Emma put the hot chocolate on top of one of the piles of paperwork and leaned back in her chair, glowering at her boss. "So that's what it comes down to. Money."

Neal sighed and loosened his tie. "We're really struggling, Emma. If we don't start evening out financially then we'll have to close. Your life isn't tied up in this business but mine is."

Emma scowled but he was right. After returning from several weeks on the road she wasn't eager to journey out again.

"Where is it?" she said without bothering to hide her irritation. Neal smiled triumphantly and she glared at him.

"Storybrooke. Maine. I've already got a train ticket for you, a place at the local inn, and a car for when you get there."

"All right," Emma said, irritated at his efficiency. He knew she'd say yes and she resented that to a degree, but he wasn't lying about the money struggles. She knew there had been problems for months, and with only two of them there wasn't a lot of money coming in, but of course Neal only told her the essential details, trying to handle everything himself. He was a good man, and she liked him, but she wished he wouldn't be so stubborn about letting her help.

"What's the job?" she asked.

"The mayor – King, Leo is his first name, I think – he says a local barmaid is peddling magical token and cures and items of that nature. He wants her brought in, quietly."

"So why doesn't he just do it himself?" Emma said. She picked up her hot chocolate and took a sip, allowing the warm sweetness to gently ease her bad mood.

"It's a small town," Neal said. He sounded tired and he looked it too. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his face was greyish. "Any move the mayor makes the whole town knows about and this woman is popular and well-respected, from an old family. You'll have to be careful."

"I've handled enough minor witches," Emma said.

Neal nodded. "I know, Emma. Apparently she's clever and the Sheriff's never been able to collect any evidence."

"I'll find some," Emma said certainly, "and then I'll arrest her. I know what I'm doing, Neal."

"I know you do," he said, and smiled at her in that way she didn't quite like, which was a little too warm. Emma looked quickly away, cleared her throat, and shuffled some papers, while Neal blushed and looked at the floor.

Emma stood, grabbing the bag she'd tucked under her desk. Neal frowned. "You're going now?"

Emma shrugged. "Why not? Most of my stuff is already packed and I don't have much to take care of." Standing, Emma grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and shrugged it on.

"Your train ticket–"

"I'll get a new one," Emma said. He moved out of her way before she ran him over in her haste to leave her small office.

"But—"

"It's fine," Emma said, already halfway down the hall and toward the door that exited onto the street.

Neal sighed and shrugged, knowing by now there was no use arguing with Emma once she'd made up her mind. "I'll just make a few calls," he said, raising his voice so that she could hear him. The door was already closing behind Emma but Neal saw her lift a hand to acknowledge she had heard him.

Neal looked at the door for a moment, and then sighed and shook his head, and went to his office to make adjustments to Emma's travel plans.

The apartment was empty, as usual. It was small, suitable for one person or a pair that could live in close proximity without wanting to tear each other's eyes out. Boxes were the main feature of the small apartment, cardboard boxes of varying sizes, although there weren't many of them since Emma didn't own too many things. She moved around too much to be sentimental. Most of the boxes were still folded closed but a few were open, their contents half-heartedly put away or left on the floor. Emma's recent return from the job in New York explained the luggage to the side of the room. She planned on sorting through it to decide what she was taking to Maine, but in truth she didn't own much anyway. Some clothing, a gun, a silver knife, and a reference guide to the magical and paranormal were her essentials for any case.

Hands on hips, Emma surveyed her small apartment. She would give the spare keys to the senior couple next door, just in case. They knew her by now since she gave them the keys whenever she went away on a case, and her work kept her busy so her apartment was often vacant. The boxes against the wall had remained in those exact positions since she first moved in several months ago. This was a place to sleep and store her meagre belongings, not a home.

She sat on the bed and pulled her luggage over. Bending over, she half-heartedly sorted through it to see what was clean and what needed washing. Most of her clothes were clean and semi-folded, and so there wasn't much for her to do. At the bottom of her suitcase was a small wooden box, and inside this box was her gun, a simple sleek revolver. It was plain but had yet to fail her. She had an odd attachment to it, perhaps because it was with her almost everywhere she went, travelling with her across the country as she went about her work. Her job could be dangerous and more than once she'd been involved in life-and-death fights. Before every job Emma gave her revolver a once-over to make sure the mechanisms were clean and working properly. The gun was fine but her supply of bullets was low.

Crossing the room to the small safe she kept full of ammunition, Emma knocked over a small box. It had been perched precariously on another cardboard box since the day Emma moved in, but she never bothered to fix it.

"Damn it," Emma said as the contents spilled across the floor. Shaking her head Emma knelt, picking things up and shoving them back in the box. Trinkets. Small items picked up throughout her life, things that meant something to her. She wasn't a sentimental person but every now and then she allowed herself to grow attached. There was a simple gold ring given to her by a grateful woman whose child Emma saved from a werewolf… and a photograph of Emma and her best friend at the first home… Frowning, Emma picked up a long chain, dulled somewhat with age. She didn't remember this necklace and had no idea where it came from. Dangling from the chain was a pendant in the shape of a tree, encircled by a silver band. Emma looked at it for a moment, trying to remember where on Earth she'd picked it up, and without thinking she put it over her head and let the pendant sit on her breast. It felt right that she should wear this necklace. It felt pleasantly warm around her neck. Emma scooped the rest of her things back in the box and placed it back with the others, careful to position it so it wouldn't fall again, and then went to the safe. The necklace was already forgotten.

Later in the evening, with the radio tuned to a local jazz station, Emma was sitting in bed with a book. Her packing was finished and she was ready to leave for Storybrooke. There was a knock on the door, which turned out to be Neal. He was still in the same suit, obviously fresh from work, and he looked more tired than ever. When she opened the door he held up a train ticket without saying a word.

"The earliest train I could get."

Emma frowned. "This isn't until tomorrow morning."

Neal leaned his head on the door frame. "It's the best I could do, Emma. Unless you want to walk all the way to Storybrooke."

Her frown deepened into a scowl but she took the ticket without a word. "What's wrong with you?"

"Long day," he said, moving into her apartment and dropping heavily into a vacant chair. "Long week. Bad year." He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.

Emma closed the door and sat on the nearby bed, frowning at Neal. He was her boss, her partner, and her only real friend. She knew he had some feelings for her but didn't know if it went as deep as love. She thought not, but that could be her own fears at play. She didn't want to have to break his heart and worse, she didn't want to fall in love herself.

"You want anything?" Emma said. She wasn't the best host since she didn't really have any friends to invite over, but she was determined to do the best she could.

"How about a drink?"

Emma nodded and rose. She didn't have much but she had some whiskey. She made them both a drink and sat back down on her bed, watching Neal turn the glass in his fingers without taking a sip. He looked troubled.

"What's wrong?"

It was a long moment before he spoke. "Emma, I don't think you should go tomorrow."

She blinked. "What? Neal, you practically begged me to go. And what about the money? You said it could help you save the business! And what, you want to just throw all that away?"

"I know, I know," he said, looking more tired and stressed than ever. He raised his glass to his lips and lowered it again without taking a drink. "I just – I have a bad feeling about all this."

Emma frowned. "You always have a bad feeling."

"Not like this, Emma," he said. His face looked tired but his eyes were keen. "This time there's something going on. I just – I don't know, I don't want you to go. It's not safe."

Emma chuckled. "What, do you have psychic powers?"

Neal looked at her and then quickly away. Surprised, Emma put her drink on the floor and leaned forward, listening attentively. "You do?"

He shook his head, scowling. "No, of course not. But my father—"

"_He's_ psychic?" Emma interrupted.

Neal shot her an irritated look. He had avoided talking about his parents since Emma first met him and years later she still knew next to nothing about them. "Let's just say he taught me not to ignore a feeling like this."

Shaking her head and smiling, Emma reached down and picked up her drink, downing it all at once. Neal sipped his, watching Emma.

"Neal, I'm sorry, but I'm going, a job's a job and this one doesn't sound too bad. Bring in a magic peddler. I appreciate your concern but I can do this."

Neal nodded and then he put his untouched drink on the floor, since Emma didn't own a table. He stood. "If you're sure, Emma."

"I am."

"All right. Just be careful. Please."

"Always am. Thanks, Neal."

Emma followed him to the door, opening it for him. As he was leaving he glanced back. "Nice necklace."

Emma touched the pendant around her neck. "Thanks. And don't worry, I'll check in with you when I get to Storybrooke."

"All right. Thanks Emma. Good night, and good luck." He put his hat on his head, gave Emma another look, and left. Emma watched him go with a frown on her face, thinking about what he'd said. This job in Storybrooke was no less dangerous than the one she'd just returned from and she'd worked far stranger and more dangerous cases: the mad wizard in Phoenix, the pack of werewolves in Oregon, and that woman who had summoned wraiths in Miami, for example. People though Prohibition would make them safer but as far as Emma was concerned the world had only become smaller and more dangerous.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, my lovelies :)

Thank you all for reading and thanks especially to those who have reviewed. I hope you continue to do so in the future!

I'm sorry this chapter is a few days late but the once-weekly updates should continue uninterrupted from now on. Thank you for your patience.

Just to clarify, this story is set in the early- to mid-1920s. Cars, radios, telephones, and motion pictures have just appeared on the scene, and are phasing out carriages, gramophones, and telegrams but both levels of technology are present in society and in this story.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Thanks for reading!

I accidentally added chapter 2 as chapter 4 - so sorry for my error and the inconvenience.

...

The air was crisp and bright, the sun was just beginning to paint the sky with colour, and a warm breeze was gently blowing Regina's dark hair. In the yard behind the Mill were several apple trees, which Regina tended to almost every day. She made her famous cider from apples she bought from local farmers, but her best cider came from her own fruit. They were red apples, large and sweet, deep in colour and full of taste. Regina took a hands-on approach, as her mother had taught her. She turned the soil herself, pruned the trees, harvested the fruit, and most important of all, she spoke to the trees. For people like Regina and Cora, people who possessed the gift of magic, words were powerful. Speak to a tree, tell it to grow tall and strong, to put its roots deep into the soil, and to sprout tasty fruit, and the tree would do all these things. After a while the trees gained a little magic of their own. Walking among them, basket in hand, Regina felt the gentle brush of leaves and branches against her skin. It was hard to see the trees move except out of the corner of her eye; they were secretive but they spoke to her in their own way. When she found a tree that was ready, she stopped, setting her basket on the ground, and gently ran her hand over the trunk. The apples of a tree that willingly gave up its hard-made fruit always produced better cider than when the apples were taken. One of the branches, heavy with gleaming red apples, lowered itself and Regina began plucking the fruit.

"Mom."

Regina started. She hadn't heard Henry come up behind her. "Hello Henry. Did Ruby pick you up from school today?" Regina hadn't wanted to send him at all, not with the threats she was now facing, but Henry had been so insistent and Regina hated to disappoint him. She'd told him he could only go to school if Ruby agreed to drop him off and pick him up. Regina would have gone herself but there was already so much work to be done at home.

"Yup," Henry said. Reaching up, he plucked an apple from the tree and dropped it in the basket.

Regina took it back out and handed it to him. "Go on, I know you're always hungry after school."

"Thanks," he said happily, taking a huge bite. Gifts from Regina's apple trees were a rare treat since she used them for her special cider. Regina smiled. Through a mouthful of apple Henry said, "There were men at my school today."

"What men?" Regina said sharply. Memories of Graham breaking into her home were still fresh in her mind. Too fresh.

"I'm not sure but I think the must have been undercover cops. Or gangsters."

The last made Regina uneasy but she kept herself composed. "Henry, there are no gangsters in Storybrooke, but I want you to be extra careful from now on. What did the men at your school want?"

Henry shrugged. "I dunno. They sat in their car across the road. They were there at lunch and when I was going home. I'm not sure, but I think they were watching me."

Regina stopped with her hand raised toward an apple. Her stomach felt cold. "What makes you say that, dear?" she said, careful to keep the fear from her voice.

Henry shrugged, happily chomping away at his apple. "I dunno. It was just a feeling."

Regina put her basket down so hard some of the apples tumbled out. She put her hands on Henry's shoulders and bent to look him in the eye. "Henry, listen to me very carefully. You are not to go to or from school, you are not to leave this house, without Ruby or myself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mom. Do you think Sheriff Graham will try something at my school?"

The very idea filled Regina with cold dread and fear. "It's a possibility," she said bluntly, "which is why I want you to stay safe. And as for Sheriff Graham… well, you leave that to me, all right? I'm your mother, it's my job to look out for you. And that means," her voice took on a sharp, serious tone, "that there will be no wandering. No sneaking out of the house. No going anywhere without my permission, and you need to be supervised at all times by either Ruby or myself."

"Mom," Henry said, giving her a pained look.

Regina met it with a look of cold steel. "I mean it, Henry. Things will be a little difficult for the next little while and I want you to stay safe."

He sighed. "All right, all right."

Regina let go of his shoulders, smiling, and cupped his chin. "I don't know what I'd do without you." She kissed his forehead then straightened and ruffled his hair. "Why don't you go inside and wash up? I made some apple turnovers earlier and you can have one when you're done your homework. And after that, you can help me make the cider."

Henry's face lit up. His mother had never asked him to help her make the cider, not the enchanted one, anyway. "Really?"

Regina couldn't help but laugh at the excitement on his face. "Really! And after that how about you and I cook up some protection spells to ward our home?"

"I'd love that! I'm going to go do my homework right now!" He turned and streaked into the house and Regina watched him go, her little prince. The news that Henry was being watched cut her deeply. It frightened and angered her and she stood in her small orchard feeling helpless. Despite what she had told Ruby she wasn't ready to take the fight to Leo King. There was, perhaps, one person who could help… but his help often came with strings attached, as Regina had learned in her youth. Besides, she didn't need him. Things would have to be dire before she called _his_ name.

Regina stooped, gathered the spilled apples, and then picked up the basket. She still needed to pick a few apples, and she knew a spell that could help her out with King. All she needed was a little time.

But time was not on her side.

...

It was Saturday morning, in the pale blue-grey of dawn when the clever north wind blew into Storybrooke. Regina sat up in bed, shivering, and though she was only half awake she was listening intently. The wind blew in through her bedroom window, ruffling Henry's hair and making Regina shiver. Witches throughout the ages had known things about the natural and unnatural worlds that ordinary people didn't. Knowledge was passed down across generations, parent to child. It had been Cora, of course, to teach Regina that each wind had a different name and each brought different tidings. This, Regina could tell, as she sat half-asleep in her bed listening, was the north wind, cleverest and wickedest of them all. The north wind was the voice of change, the whisper of things to come, and of lost things.

Regina recognized the north wind and sensed change was on its way, but for good or evil, that was beyond her skill to detect.

Frowning, feeling unnerved, Regina slid out of bed, crossed the room quickly, and shut the window as quietly as she could. She returned to bed, feeling better, and wrapped her arms around Henry. His arms, in turn, cradled his favourite book, a collection of fairytales. He'd fallen asleep in her bed after asking her to read to him. He was growing so fast and of course Regina said yes, even if he was a little too old to be sleeping in his mom's bed. After all, he wouldn't be a little boy forever and Regina would steal these moments when she could.

Kissing the back of his head, Regina smiled and snuggled into bed, ready to fall back asleep. After all, it was Saturday morning and Henry didn't have to be up for a while.

The clever north wind was driven completely from her mind.

...

It was late Saturday morning when Emma Swan arrived in Storybrooke. The train took her to the farthest station in this part of Maine and she'd had to take a cab to get out here. Of course, motorcars were still rare in these small towns, so the cab had been horse drawn. Not her favourite mode of transportation, but under the circumstances she would have to take what she could get. During the long train ride and then the cab ride she thought about how she was going to tackle this job in Storybrooke. She had a certain knack for being able to detect magic. She said it was instinct. Neal said it was a gift. Whatever it was, it was an asset in her line of work. Emma would admit to one gift, and that was her ability to tell when a person was lying. Oftentimes she tried to say it was in the person's body language or a certain look in their eyes, but she would be lying to herself. It was a gift, a reluctant one that she made good use out of. She never thought about it any further than that.

Storybrooke was like any other small town Emma had seen: well-kept houses and yards, people sitting on their porches or amiably chatting in the streets like they had all the time in the world. This town looked particularly – well, nice. Emma couldn't think of a better word to describe it. But she'd seen plenty of 'nice' towns in her time and all of them had harboured a much darker secret. Storybrooke wouldn't be any different.

The cabbie clucked at his horse and pulled on the reins, guiding the horse to the side of the road. The cabbie hadn't spoken much during the trip and now he turned his head to look at her. "Where do you want me to drop you off, miss?"

Emma looked at the window without a clue as to where she was. Town hall, and the mayor's office, would be her best bet but she didn't even know where that was. "I'll get out here. Thanks."

He shrugged. Emma passed him a few bills with a healthy tip included for his trouble, grabbed her bag, and hopped out of the cab. Squinting against the sun, she stood on the streets of Storybrooke and looked around.

"You must be Emma."

Turning, she met the gaze of a handsome man with a neatly kept beard and bright green eyes. He wore a well-tailored suit with the jacket off and the sleeves rolled up. A star-shaped badge glittered in the sunlight. Inhaling, Emma smelt a pleasant aroma, cologne, no doubt, and under it was a familiar scent that caused her stomach to tighten.

"You must be the new sheriff."

"Very astute of you, Miss Swan. I'm Sheriff Graham. Will you come with me, please? The mayor is waiting, he wants to meet with you."

"Mayor… King, right?"

Graham nodded. "Leopold King. He's a bit of a stern man, but he's fair."

"Good," Emma said, looking at the streets around her while still paying attention to Graham. The mayor must be tolerant indeed to let one of Graham's kind live in town, especially as a Sheriff. It was none of her business, though, and as long as Graham kept to himself she would leave him alone. She didn't care what kind of man King was, either. Emma had a job to do in Storybrooke and she didn't give a damn what the mayor had to say. The sheriff was talking to her and she tuned in long enough to note that what he was saying wasn't particularly important and didn't require her to respond with much more than an 'uh-huh'. Emma was far more interested in watching the people around her. They moved out of Graham's way as he neared and none of them spoke to him, even to say hello. Instead, they watched him carefully, perhaps even with fear. Emma eyed him shrewdly.

"Is there someplace for me to stay in this town? A hotel or something?" Emma cut in.

He blinked at her. "You don't have accommodations?"

Emma shrugged. "My partner probably got me some but I left in a hurry and I don't know where I'm supposed to be staying, if anywhere."

Graham smiled and Emma thought again of the townspeople looking at him in fear. "Well, I'm sure the mayor will be happy to help you find a place to stay."

Lying. Emma could see it in his eyes. But she held her tongue because she was new here and she wanted to get a good understanding of this place and these people before she stepped on any toes. Besides, her stay here was only temporary; no need to make enemies.

The pair crossed the street and rounded a corner. Motorcars had barely made an appearance in Storybrooke; so far the only one she'd seen was the Sheriff's, which was parked across the road from a place called Granny's Diner. Looking at the sign and the quaint little restaurant, Emma smiled. This place was small-town to the last.

"Do you want a coffee?" Graham asked, gesturing toward the diner.

Emma frowned. "No, thanks. I think it would be best if I got to work right away. My partner told me the job in this place was, well, _urgent_."

Something in Graham's face flickered but it was gone before Emma could register what it was. If she had to guess she'd say he was angry.

His face relaxed into a smooth smile. "Of course. But maybe later I can treat you to one. Granny's coffee is the best there is."

"Maybe later," Emma said curtly. She wasn't particularly comfortable spending her time with men, especially ones she'd just met, and definitely not someone like Graham. "Right now I think I should see Mayor King."

"Right," he said, and though he smiled Emma could tell he wasn't happy. "This way," he said, leading her to his car. They didn't speak on the short drive to see the mayor, which suited Emma since she didn't trust the sheriff. She suspected he believed she was after her job, and sensed his jealousy. Of course the notion of her taking a sheriff's position in this dinky town was ridiculous, but Emma didn't care about his ego and didn't bother to correct his suspicion.

They rounded a corner and Emma got her first look at city hall. It was a large building, tall and white, and the drive to the main entrance was lined with towering oak trees. Graham stopped by the main door and when the pair got out of the car someone came to drive it away. There were police officers in the building but mostly there were ordinary men and women dressed in business attire, many of them carrying briefcases and looking over their paperwork.

Graham led her inside, past security and reception. Eyes flickered toward Emma, a stranger in town, and she nodded and smiled to anyone she saw. It was the same wherever she went, always new, always a stranger, and always the centre of attention. In big cities she kept to herself but in these small towns it was best to win over people's trust by being friendly.

"Mayor's office is on the top floor. Lots of stairs, I'm sorry to say," Graham said as he took Emma through a door that led to the building's atrium. He took her across the room to a large wooden staircase, and while employees busily moved up and down, two men stood off to the side, chatting about half-way up. Emma watched them, her eyes narrowed. When one of them moved Emma caught the briefest glimpse of a firearm. The men turned and caught sight of Graham. He nodded and then looked at Emma.

"Emma, these men are under my jurisdiction. Emma Swan is a guest of Mayor King, please treat her accordingly."

The officers relaxed but only slightly. "Do you need us to come with you?" one of them asked, his eyes lingering over Emma in a manner she did not like.

Emma drew herself up to her full height and fixed these two men with a baleful stare, particularly the one that had spoken. Neither spoke but Emma, who'd taken out her fair share of monsters and magic-users, knew that she could handle a couple of lecherous men.

Graham, oblivious to Emma's thoughts, laughed at the man's comment. "No, Jones, I'm sure Emma won't be a problem."

"Ms. Swan," Emma cut in coldly. "My name is Ms. Swan."

They didn't like that one but and Emma had to suppress a victorious smile. She pointed up the stairs. "I assume the mayor's office is this way?"

Graham blinked, taken aback, sensing a shift in power and not yet comprehending the full scope of the situation. "Yeah," he said. "I'll take you—"

"No, I'm sure I can find it," she said crisply, and then turned and walked up the stairs without a backwards glance.

The mayor's office was at the top of the building and oddly enough there were no security guards at this point. It was quiet and empty and had a serious atmosphere. The floor was a luxurious carpet so white Emma felt guilty for walking on it. The walls were dark brown with paintings and photographs depicting various buildings in Storybrooke and some of the town's historic moments. At the end of the hallway was a neat little desk where a prim woman sat. The secretary stood when Emma approached, obviously trying to hide how flustered she was.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

Emma had been looking at the plaque on the door, which read '_Leopold King, Mayor_'. Simple and direct. Emma approved. Her green eyes turned to the secretary. "I'm here to see the mayor."

"Well, do you have an appointment?" she asked, smoothing down her sensible shirt.

"Not exactly, but he's expecting me." Emma knocked on the door and bit back a laugh at the look on the woman's face. Leaning to look at the secretary's name, Emma smiled. "Sorry about the inconvenience, Blue, but the mayor is expecting me. Maybe not today, but—"

"Miss Blue?" came a man's voice from inside the office.

Ms. Blue looked torn between telling Emma off and answering the mayor's summons. Finally, with a huff and a dirty look in Emma's direction, she went to the door. She tried to close it but Emma blocked it with her boot and slipped in behind. Blue glared at her but Emma was having too much fun to care. Her eyes swept the room, taking in the sterile atmosphere it created. She was uncomfortably reminded of her own barren apartment, then shrugged off the feeling.

"Miss Blue?"

The mayor was sitting at his desk, poring over paperwork with a pen in his hand and a quizzical expression on his face. Ms. Blue gave Emma another glare and then trotted obediently to the mayor's desk.

"I assure you, sir, this is not my doing. She just barged in here. She says you're expecting her but she doesn't have an appointment."

Mayor King was surveying Emma with great interest. "Miss Swan?" Emma nodded. "Your boss sent a telegram advising you would arrive early."

"What, no telephones?" Emma asked, smiling in a slightly bemused way.

King smiled back at her in an almost indulgent way. "Storybrooke is a small town, Miss Swan. You'll have to forgive us if we haven't quite caught up to the modern world." Emma shrugged and he turned to his employee. "It's all right, Miss Blue, it's my fault, I forgot to tell you about Miss Swan's arrival. You can go."

Miss Blue blinked, looked at Emma, and then smoothed her skirt. "Excuse me," she said, and left the room as quietly as possible.

Mayor King stood and walked around his desk to greet Emma. She took his hand and they shared a firm handshake, his blue eyes looking into her green, both of them assessing. Emma released his hand and put hers in the pockets of her jacket.

"Your boss—"

"Partner," Emma cut in.

Mayor King smiled. "Of course, excuse my error. Won't you sit down?" He gestured toward one of the chairs opposite his desk and Emma sat, her eyes scanning the room again, taking in everything, memorizing details. "Can I offer you a drink?" He was already standing by the small bar with a glass in his hand and the other resting on an expensive looking bottle of whiskey.

"No, thank you," Emma said.

"It's good for you!" King said, and poured two glasses while Emma watched him with pursed lips. He brought the glasses over and set one in front of Emma, then sat at his desk. Taking a sip, he surveyed her over the glass. Emma left her drink untouched.

"I hear you have a witch problem," Emma said. She had never been a tactful person and besides, she was tired of waiting for King to begin.

King set his glass on the table. "One I hope you can help me with."

"That's what I'm here to do," Emma said with a shrug. "What do I need to know?"

The witch in question is a woman named Regina Mills. She's lived here in Storybrooke all her life, and she's always had the gift of magic, something she inherited from her mother. Cora's dead now but Regina continues to practice her magic – and sell it, despite Prohibition being in effect for a number of years. But—"

"But you're having a hard time proving it," Emma said with a small, knowing smile.

"The sheriff's office recently conducted a raid on what we believe to be her base of operations, an old bar owned by the Mills family for years. They found nothing, of course."

Emma leaned back in her chair. "What can you tell me about Regina Mills?"

The mayor smiled coldly, put his hands on the desk, and laced his fingers together. Emma was starting to think that, like Sheriff Graham, the mayor was not a man to be trusted.

"Regina is a formidable woman, highly intelligent, cunning, and devious. She's a tough woman and she'll be a harsh opponent. I hope you're up to the challenge."

"I'm sure I will be. What else can you tell me?"

"You'll find her at the Mill – her bar. She has an apartment above and her friend lives in a cottage near the back of the property."

"She sounds rich."

"She isn't. The Mills used to be like royalty around here but their influence has declined these last few years. Regina owns the Mill and some of the property around it but nothing more than that."

Emma nodded. "What about her magic?"

"She's strong, not as powerful as some but she isn't to be easily dismissed. Even though she has all that power she mostly peddles small charms and minor enchantments. But I fear – and please keep this to yourself, Miss Swan – I fear she is planning on selling Dark magic and the consequences would be deadly. I've already been made aware of a few Dark Market items circulating, and the effects of Regina's trade are already being felt. A few people have already been committed to hospital because of dark magic use gone wrong."

"I'd like to talk to those people."

"You can't."

Emma leaned forward in her chair. "Those people were witnesses. If you want me to bring this woman in legally I'll need evidence, so I'll need to talk to those people."

"You can't talk to them because they've already been transferred to a prison facility. Purchasing magical items of a dark nature is a federal offence. We were forced to report them and turn them over to a higher power. Besides, Storybrooke is a small town and we aren't equipped to handle something like that. There are only a couple cells in the sheriff's station."

Emma didn't bother to hide her disappointment as she slumped back in her chair. "I'll need access to the case files."

King smiled pleasantly. "Of course."

"I'm sorry to ask but I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be staying. I left in a hurry, so…"

"Of course. I made a reservation for you already at our local inn." He took a slip of paper off his desk, scrawled the address on it, and passed it to Emma. "They'll have your reservation on file. And please, Miss Swan, if you need anything feel free to contact my office and let me know."

She nodded absently and made to stand but King stopped her.

"Hold on a moment, Miss Swan. I expect you to keep me upgraded on your progress regarding Miss Mills. I also expect you'll keep everything between us. You're a stranger in a small town so naturally people will be curious about you. The truth, of course, could be very dangerous."

"I understand. Don't worry, I've been doing this a long time and I'm a professional. I know how to handle myself."

"I didn't mean to question your professionalism."

Emma rose. "It's all right. I'll be at the hotel for the next little while, in case you're looking for me."

"I'll have Sheriff Graham escort—"

"No," Emma said sharply. "I'll be fine. Thanks."

King stood and came around his desk and walked Emma to the door. Emma wanted to tell him that she knew the way but she bit her tongue. Neal told her frequently that she was too brash for her own good, and she had to admit she'd been in a few brawls because of her sharp tongue.

"I'm looking forward to working with you, Miss Swan," King said with an oily smile.

Emma nodded, mumbled a reply, and slipped out of the door. She left city hall as quickly as she could and was grateful not to encounter the sheriff or any of his officers on her way out.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma's hotel room was quaint and old-fashioned. She stood by the window looking at the street below, her arms crossed over her chest and her fingers drumming restlessly against her skin. The room was too small for Emma's taste and she was starting to feel trapped. Turning sharply, she grabbed her coat and left the room. Passing through the lobby Emma noted there was no one at the desk but the innkeeper, an older woman with a perpetual scowl, told Emma earlier that Storybrooke rarely received visitors. It seemed Emma wouldn't be keeping a low profile but that was hardly ever the case in a small town anyway. Out on the street, people eyed her as she walked, some with friendly smiles but most with suspicion mixed with curiosity. As Emma was passing an old brick building she heard a door open and turned in time to see a white and black blur run up to her, wagging its tail wildly.

"Pongo, no! Come here!" A red-haired man with horn-rimmed glasses trotted after the Dalmatian, dragging a leash in one hand. "I'm sorry. He's friendly."

"I see that," Emma said, kneeling down and scratching the dog's neck. "Hello, Pongo."

His owner attached the leash and Emma stood to look at him. He had a friendly face and smiled, not in the forced way she had encountered all day but in a genuine, albeit slightly confused, way.

"I'm Emma Swan. I'm new in town."

The confusion went away and he smiled even more widely than before. "Oh! I'm Doctor Hopper. Archie."

"It's nice to meet you. You're the first person that's actually been nice to me."

Archie blushed and scratched Pongo's ear, too shy to look Emma in the eye. "Well, small town, you know. Everyone's a little suspicious at first but they'll warm up to you soon enough."

"Right," Emma said. "What's with the umbrella?" it puzzled her that he would carry such an item since the sky was sunny and cloud-free.

"Oh. It's kind of a good luck charm, I suppose. No real magic," he added in a slightly hurried way. "Just, well…"

"Superstition," Emma said.

He shrugged. "Something like that. May I ask what brings you to Storybrooke?"

"I'm a writer," Emma lied fluidly. "I'm working on a novel and I needed a change of scenery."

"Well, you should find plenty of that in Storybrooke," Hopper said.

"Speaking of finding things, I'm looking for something called 'The Mill'. It's a bar or something? Someone told me if I was coming to Storybrooke I should check it out."

"Yeah, of course. Just go down this road and turn left at the green building. It's straight down that road, maybe fifteen minutes' walk. I'm not sure if it's open yet, but now you know where it is."

"Thanks, I think I'll go check it out. Nice to meet you, Doctor Hopper."

"Oh, just Archie is fine. Nice to meet you too!" he said. Emma walked away and as she went Pongo gave a deep bark. and Emma turned around to wave at the both of them.

Down the road, turn left at the green building. Of course she didn't have any intention of barging in there and going right after Mills – that would be foolish at best and deadly at worst. This was a witch, after all, and witches could be powerful enough to kill with a simple spell. Emma had scant information on this Regina Mills, information she badly needed to figure out how to proceed.

The sun was hot and sweat beaded on Emma's brow as she walked. She tied back her hair, took off her jacket, and undid a couple of her shirt buttons. There were few people in this part of town, the houses replaced with larger stores already closed for the day. The farther she walked the fewer buildings she saw and the more trees. It seemed the Mill was situated almost out of town – out of sight, out of mind. Well, not quite so out of mind, Ms. Mills, Emma thought with a grim smile.

The road wasn't paved in this part of town and while Emma walked she kicked up dirt. Although it was late afternoon heading into evening the sun was still high and hot, and while she walked Emma grew thirsty. When she caught sight of the Mill she forgot about her discomfort. It was a gorgeous building that looked at least a century old, constructed of stone and dark brown wood. The sign above the door showed an old building powered by a waterwheel. The Mill, run by the Mills family – Emma guessed the family ran the town's granaries once upon a time. There were trees around the sides and behind the bar and peering closely Emma caught sight of ripe, red apples on some of the trees around back. She thought she also saw a small cottage but it was hard to tell through all the vegetation. Stepping lightly, Emma went to the front of the bar and peered in through the windows but it seemed empty. Putting her hand gently on the door handle, she tested it as quietly as she could and found it open. She stuck her head in carefully since one could never be too cautious around witches.

"Hello? Anyone here?" She took a few steps inside, closing the door soundlessly behind her. "Hello? Are you open?" Emma scanned the large room, taking in the bar, tables, and the art on the walls. There was a comfortable, homey feel to this place, like it had been waiting to welcome her here. If she wasn't at work Emma would have stopped here to have a drink.

"What do you think you're doing in here?"

Emma turned sharply, caught off guard. She hadn't heard the kitchen door open, but startled or not, she was quick on her feet and immediately hitched a smile onto her face. Looking at the other woman her smile fluttered. Whether it was Regina Mills or her employee, whose name Emma had already forgotten, there was something about this woman that turned Emma's silver tongue to lead.

There was nothing particularly special about her. She was wearing a simple housedress, rubber gloves, and comfortable shoes; she carried a bucket and her hair was neatly kept under a bandana. So what was it about her that made Emma feel both nauseated and nervous at once?

Looking at her, Emma thought it was the way she carried herself: head held high, shoulders squared, and back rigid. There was something aristocratic about her demeanour if not her appearance. She may be dressed in cleaning clothes but she was the mistress of this place and no one and nothing was going to tell her what to do. Emma knew without a doubt that this was Regina Mills.

"I asked you a question and you're standing there staring at me like you've forgotten your own name," Mills said. Her tone was sharp, fierce, a woman that demanded attention and respect with every word she spoke. She moved forward and set the bucket of soapy water on the bar, then put a hand on her hip and looked at Emma with dark, defiant eyes.

"Hi," Emma said and then realized her mouth had stopped working. "The door was open," she said, pointing to it over her shoulder. She knew she sounded foolish but couldn't help herself. Here she was, caught red-handed breaking into her quarry's bar and she couldn't even get her brain to spin a decent lie. There was something about this woman…

Regina peeled the gloves off her long fingers while looking at Emma through narrowed eyes. She tossed the gloves next to the bucket, put her hands on the bar, and raised an eyebrow at Emma. "An open door is not an invitation to enter somebody's property."

Emma's brain was finally starting to kick itself into gear. "I'm sorry. I'm new in town. I thought you were open."

"Well, we're not. But we will be soon. Have a seat."

It was a surprising thing for her to say given that she seemed so hostile only moments before, but there was something in the tone of her voice that brooked no argument. Emma paused, she and the barmaid eying each other closely, and then Emma dropped her gaze and took a seat by a window. Regina watched her a moment longer and then turned around, grabbed a tall glass, and set it on the bar with a dull thud.

"Dark or sweet?"

"Sorry?" Emma said, confused.

For the first time the other woman smiled; her lips crinkled at the corners, and a spark of light ignited in her eyes. Emma's stomach fluttered and under the table she clasped her hands tightly together.

The barmaid pulled one of the taps, filling the glass, which she then brought to Emma. "You look like you're a sweet kind of girl," she said. "I'm Regina."

"Emma." She held out her hand. Regina's hand, slight and long-fingered, slipped easily into Emma's. There was a jolt, like a small electric shock, that ran up Emma's arm and spread through her chest and stomach. It wasn't painful but surprising. If Regina felt something she didn't show it. She released Emma's hand and slipped her own into the pocket of her apron, looking at Emma with dark, unreadable eyes. Emma could sense Regina's intelligence and knew the barmaid was quietly assessing her.

"I feel bad, I've interrupted you," Emma said, trying to regain control of herself and the situation.

Regina smiled. "It's no problem. First cider is on the house. Kind of a welcome to Storybrooke, I guess. May I ask what you're here for?"

"I'm…" Emma's brain seemed to have switched off again. She didn't even realise she was staring until Regina raised her eyebrows. "A writer. I'm a writer. Sorry. Long train rides always wear me out."

"That's understandable," Regina said, shifting her weight and eying Emma closely. She smiled, a little slyly, Emma thought. "Drink the cider. It's good. You can stay for a bit, if you like."

"Thanks," Emma said.

Regina smiled again and went back to the bar, tightening the bandana around her hair and slipping the gloves back onto her hands. She cleaned the bar meticulously, occasionally looking up at Emma while she worked. For her part, Emma sat still, feeling inexplicably nervous and self-conscious. She found it hard to believe this was a dangerous villain. But Emma had been deceived before.

Standing, she went to the bar, took a rag from the soapy bucket, and helped wipe down the counter.

Regina stopped to look at her. "You don't have to do that."

Emma shrugged and smiled. "A little apology for breaking in here." And also a good excuse to get to know Regina. "Have you always lived in Storybrooke?"

"Yes, I was born here. My family has owned this building since Storybrooke's founding. It's seen quite a few transformations over the years but it was my mother who turned it into a bar." She glanced at the table where Emma had sat. "You should drink your cider before it gets warm."

Emma glanced over at it. "I'm not much of a cider drinker," she confessed.

Regina gave her that sly look again, then took off her gloves and retrieved the cider, which she brought to Emma. "I'm famous for my cider. I make it myself every year and store it in barrels underneath the bar until it's aged to perfection. I assure you, it's quite delicious."

She held it out to Emma, who watched Regina's face carefully but sensed no malice. Wiping her hands dry, Emma took the glass. It smelled good, she had to admit, somewhat like apple pie. Carefully, she took a sip, well aware of Regina's eyes on her. The drink was sweet and bubbly like soda, the sweetness balanced by the tanginess of beer. Emma thought she smelled cinnamon, nutmeg, and other spices. Regina's smile widened at the look on Emma's face.

"It's good, isn't it?" she said proudly.

"Delicious!"

"I take a lot of pride in my cider."

"It's like magic," Emma said. Of course the word choice was intentional and she watched Regina closely for any kind of reaction.

Regina shrugged and shook her head. "Nope, just an old family recipe. But… I might have tweaked it a bit, here and there. Here, pull up a chair, sit down and enjoy your drink."

Emma tried to insist on continuing to help Regina clean but the barmaid waved her away. "I'm almost done. And besides, it gives me a chance to get to know you. You'll have to forgive me, it's a bartender's prerogative."

Emma shook her head and smiled. "All right, all right. Ask away, I'm ready." She took another sip of her cider.

"Where are you from?"

"Boston."

"Do you have family there?"

"No. No one really. I move around a lot."

"Must get lonely," Regina said, looking at Emma carefully while she wrung out the cleaning rag. She folded the rag and the towels and as Emma spoke she took off her gloves and rested them beside the bucket.

Emma shrugged at Regina's question. "I'm used to it. But… yeah, every once in a while it gets to you." She frowned, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and drank some cider so she wouldn't have to speak anymore. She was aware of Regina's eyes on her but refused to meet the other woman's gaze.

"I've never really had anyone either," Regina said softly, when a moment had passed.

Emma finally looked up and met Regina's soft brown eyes. There was something there, flickering in the bar's warm light. Emma's heart fluttered in her breast. She opened her mouth to speak, not sure what she was going to say.

The swing door to the kitchen opened, startling both of the women, who looked over. A young woman, tall and slender, with long brown hair, looked shrewdly at Emma.

"It's all right, Ruby. This is Emma, she's here as my guest."

Ruby came forward and stood beside Regina, and though she smiled at Emma there was still uncertainty in her eyes. Emma smiled at her as warmly as she could. Ruby was potentially a good source of information about Regina.

"I'm writing a book. Came to Storybrooke for some inspiration."

"What are you writing about?" Ruby asked.

_Werewolves_, Emma almost said. She caught herself quickly, smiled and shrugged. "I don't know yet, I'm still waiting for an idea to come. I just got here today, I'm staying at the inn."

Something flickered in Ruby's face. If Emma had to guess, she would say Ruby was hurt but Emma didn't know what she'd said or done.

"How long are you staying?" Ruby asked. She was a pretty woman about Emma's own age, her lips and nails coloured bright red in the style modern city girls were starting to adopt.

"I'm not sure yet. So you work here?"

"Well, I can't run this place by myself," Regina said. "And speaking of running, I have to go and get changed. We'll be opening soon." Regina took off her apron and bandana and tucked them under the bar, then crossed the room and went up the staircase.

Emma turned back to Ruby and smiled.

"Can I get you another?" Ruby asked.

Emma looked at her glass of cider, which was almost empty. She thought about whether she wanted to stay longer or go back to the inn and plan her next move.

"No, I'm ok. I'd better get going, I'm tired from the trip." Emma drained the glass and set it back on the bar.

"Ok. Hope to see you again," Ruby said with a smile.

"I'll be back, don't worry." Standing, Emma reached into her pocket and took out a few coins, which she put on the bar. "Tell Regina I said thanks."

"I will," Ruby said, sliding her hand across the bar and taking the money. "Nice meeting you," Ruby called over the clang of the register.

Emma raised a hand in farewell and left. The cider sat comfortably in her belly and had certainly quenched her thirst. The walk back into town was more pleasant and she smiled amiably at a group of seven men walking toward the Mill, led by a grouchy looking man who didn't return Emma's smile. She shrugged, in too good a mood to be bothered. As she walked she found she met fewer people on the streets despite the fall warmth. Walking back the way she'd come she passed the building where she met Archie. There was no one around, almost as if everyone had made a point not to be seen outdoors in this area. There was something wrong, Emma could sense it. Passing a narrow alley she happened to glance down and saw a small group of men surrounding a trembling figure. Squinting, Emma saw bright red hair and the glint of a pair of glasses…

She crossed the street quickly before the men could see her and pressed her back against the wall, listening closely. From the lengthening shadows came a man's voice, one Emma thought was vaguely recognizable.

"Do you think I'm a bully, Dr. Hopper?" the man said. His voice was pleasant enough but it held a dangerous undercurrent.

"N-n-no," Archie said. Emma inched closer and peered around the corner. Every muscle was tense, ready to move in case they caught sight of her.

"Good. I'm not a bully, Hopper, I'm just a man with a job to do. A tough job. And right now my job involves asking you a few questions, so try and calm down."

Emma saw Archie nod. He was trembling so badly Emma wondered how he managed to stand.

"Calm now? Good." His voice was cold. "I know you're buying, Archie. I know you're going to Regina for a little more than cider."

"N-no, Detective S-Spencer, I just–"

Now Emma recognised him. She had met him, briefly, in city hall when Graham had stopped on the staircase to talk to a pair of men. Spencer was the tall, old one with the cold blue eyes.

"Don't lie to me!" Spencer roared. He slammed Archie against the wall so hard his glasses fell off. "I know you're buying. And do you know what happens to people who buy magic in my town, Archie? Bad things." He let go of Archie, stooped, and picked up his glasses. "But," Spencer continued, and his voice was slick. "You can make things easier on yourself. Tell me about Regina's operation and I'll see what I can do for you. I have a lot of influence with the Sheriff and the mayor. They'll listen to me, they'll go easy on you if I ask them to. Help yourself, Archie, and tell me about Regina."

"Tell you what?" Archie's voice was trembling with fear.

"Everything," Spencer said eagerly. "What she's selling. Who her buyers are. Any suppliers she might have. When she comes and goes. Everything, Archie."

There was a long moment of silence. One of the men with Spencer turned his head toward the mouth of the alley. Emma moved out of the way, her heart beating quickly, unsure if she'd been seen. From inside the alley she heard a soft thud and a cry of pain.

"Just take some time, Archie. Think about it. You don't have to answer right away." Spencer sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Emma risked a glance and saw him fold Archie's glasses and tuck them inside the front pocket of Archie's jacket.

"Think about it," he said again with a smirk that was supposed to be a kind smile. He patted Archie once on the shoulder and then jerked his head to indicate his officers follow him. Emma moved quickly out of the way and hid in the building's doorway, holding her breath as the three men passed her by without noticing. She waited a moment and then ducked down the alleyway.

"Archie?"

He was sitting on the ground, knees drawn up and his head in his hands. He jumped when Emma called his name and was shaking so badly Emma had to help him to his feet.

"Are you ok?" she said, quickly looking him over for injuries.

"I'm fine," he said, moving away from Emma. He pulled his glasses off and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'm fine," he said again, softly. Emma felt sorry for him.

"What happened, Archie?" Emma said, keeping her tone level. Pity was quickly giving way to anger that someone would do this to this man. True, she didn't know him well but he had been the first person to show kindness to her since her arrival in Storybrooke. And besides, Emma hated bullies.

"I just – I didn't – it's ok. It's fine."

He was obviously frightened but Emma wasn't so easily intimidated. "Archie, this is not ok. They can't do this to you."

Shivering, he looked all around, met Emma's gaze, and quickly looked away. "I don't want any trouble."

Emma felt her hard gaze soften. Gently, she placed her hand under Archie's arm. "Come on, let's get out of here." She steered him gently and as they stepped out onto the rapidly darkening street Emma was struck by an idea. "Do you want to go to Granny's Diner and talk?"

He hesitated and Emma was sure he would say no, but to her relief he nodded. "Lead the way," she said, patting his shoulder and smiling.

The best thing about small towns was that everything was close, so they didn't have far to travel. The walk allowed Archie some time to compose himself, although he was still twitchy and kept looking around corners. They didn't meet many people, and those they did see looked at Emma with unfriendly eyes. They kept together in groups of three or more and didn't say anything to Emma or Archie. It seemed Storybrooke was a different town by night, angrier and more hostile.

Granny's Diner was like a beacon in the night, its bright lights promising a warm and welcoming haven. Unlike those few people out on the streets, everyone in the diner looked cozy, happy, and unafraid. Walking inside, Emma felt the tightness in her back and shoulders ease; she didn't even realise how tense she was until it was gone. Archie led the way to an empty booth and they sat. Within moments the old woman that ran the inn bustled over to their table, looking harassed.

"What'll you have?" she asked.

"Just a coffee, please," Archie said quietly.

"And you?" she said grumpily to Emma.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't we fancy?" She tutted and bustled off.

Emma hid her smile as she turned back to Archie. He looked anxious and didn't want to meet her gaze. Emma knew from experience it was best not to force someone on an issue like this, not when they were so obviously afraid. So she waited until their drinks arrived, watching him until she thought he was calm enough to proceed.

"I recognised that man as one of Graham's officers. That Spencer guy," Emma said, making sure to keep her voice calm. Archie looked at her, not with anger or suspicion, but Emma thought he was working out in his mind whether he wanted to talk to Emma about this or not. Finally he nodded.

"Spencer predated Graham by a number of years. There are all kinds of rumours going around about the two of them."

"What kind of rumours?" Emma asked lightly. She had been about to take a sip of her hot chocolate but now she set it back on the table.

Archie shrugged. "Oh, the usual kind of stuff. Spencer was set for a promotion but when Graham got it instead he became jealous. That sort of thing. Kind of desperate to prove himself to the mayor and get the job for himself."

"But the mayor doesn't decide who gets the Sheriff's position. That's not legal," Emma said.

Archie shrugged. "A lot of what goes on in Storybrooke isn't legal." Looking suddenly frightened, as though he'd said too much, Archie looked away, holding tightly to his cup

of coffee.

Emma watched him for a long moment, and then leaned forward and whispered, "Archie, does this have anything to do with what they were asking you? About Regina?"

He went so white Emma thought he would pass out, and looked at her with wide eyes full of alarm. "There's nothing going on with Regina!" he hissed. "I don't know anything, I don't know why they were asking me those questions!"

Emma looked at him sadly. "Archie, you're lying. I can tell. I can always tell."

He looked more frightened than ever, even more than when he was attacked in the alleyway. "Who are you? Who are you working for?"

"I'm not working for anybody," Emma lied. "And I'm a friend, Archie. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

He looked torn, afraid, uncertain. Emma was losing him quickly.

"Look, drink your coffee and then, if you want, I'll walk you home and make sure you get there safely. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

Archie shook his head. "I'll be fine," he said.

"Archie, are you sure?"

He nodded emphatically. "I'll be fine," he repeated in a firmer voice.

Emma sighed and stood. She dropped a couple dollars on the table to cover her hot chocolate and a tip. As she was leaving she took the old woman's arm, and though she looked harassed that Emma would take hold of her, she listened when Emma spoke.

"Archie's had a rough night. Make sure someone gets him home safely."

Glancing at Archie, then back to Emma, Granny nodded. Emma let her go and left the diner. The night air was heavy and smelled of rain. The night was fully dark now and the moon hung red in the sky like a baleful eye. Emma turned up the collar of her trench coat and jammed her hands in the pocket, heading back toward the inn.

"You know, in some cultures the blood moon is considered a bad omen."

Emma turned around. A man, tall, thin, and well-dressed, leaned on a cane and looked at her with a mocking smile on his face.

"Who are you?" she said, narrowing her eyes.

His smile widened, just a little. "I have many names but there's no reason you need to know any of them right now, dearie."

Emma closed her eyes, gathering her patience, and when she opened them again she glared at the stranger. "I have enough mysteries on my hands right now, pal. I just want to get to bed and sleep."

He shrugged, looking completely unperturbed by Emma's words and tone. "That's fine by me. Just make sure that you're ready for the storm when it comes."

"Storm?"

"Oh yes, dearie," the man said, leaning forward. He looked sinister in the half-light and for the first time Emma was a little afraid. "It's a big one, and it's coming fast." He grinned at her and then without a word, disappeared.

Emma inhaled sharply and took a step backward, scanning the sidewalk in front of her in case this was some sort of trick. Of course it wasn't. There was more than one magic-user in Storybrooke, one that King himself didn't seem to know about.

Turning, Emma squared her shoulders and walked quickly to the inn, the blood moon watching every step she took.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello my lovelies! Sorry for the long wait - life has a way of sneaking up on you and interferring with very important Swan Queen fanfiction. If you sent in a review and I haven't replied, I apologise. Even though I've been very busy this month I still love and appreciate you.

...

Leo King was at his desk going over documents from the previous day's board meeting when he heard a commotion from the hallway outside his office. There were raised voices, not quite hysterical or yelling, but obviously angry, and they were drawing nearer. He sighed and took off his spectacles. When the voices reached the outside of his door and Miss Blue's squawks joined the commotion Leo sighed again, folded his hands neatly on his desk, and waited.

The office door opened so forcefully it bounced off the wall with a reverberating bang, and Emma Swan, her cheeks flushed and face angry, strode into the room. Graham was right on her heels and had to raise his hands to catch the swinging door before it hit him in the face. Lastly came Miss Blue, who was so indignant she couldn't speak.

"Is there a problem?" Leo asked calmly.

"You're damn right there's a problem." Emma stormed right up to his desk and leaned on it to look Leo in the eye. She looked ferocious.

King raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Your police are the problem," Emma said harshly, pushing off of King's desk and turning to glare at Sheriff Graham, "and their military-style tactics. This is a town full of innocent people, it's not a warzone."

Graham looked from Emma to the mayor, obviously struggling to keep his demeanour calm. There was anger in his eyes, although he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. The mayor looked at them both, one to another, and then spoke to his secretary. "Miss Blue, you are excused." She nodded once and then saw herself out, giving King a last troubled look before closing the door behind her.

"Miss Swan, why don't you have a seat and tell me exactly what the problem is?" Leo said calmly while gesturing to the chairs in front of him. Emma shot another angry look at Graham and then sat. Graham grabbed the back of another chair with the obvious intention to sit as well, but King gave him a look so full of venom that Graham let go of the chair as it if had burned him.

Emma didn't notice. In a furious tirade she told Leo everything she'd witnessed in the dark alley between Graham's officers and Archie Hopper. Her dedication to justice was apparent in the passion of her voice and her eyes were bright with righteous anger. Leo let her rant, hiding his smile but he could not suppress the glint in his eye.

"If that's the kind of town you're running, Mayor King, then annul my contract right now because I don't want to be a part of it," Emma finished. Sitting across from King her shoulders and back were rigid and her expression was hard and unforgiving.

King said nothing, merely allowed his eyes to slide from Swan to Graham. "Well, Sheriff?" he said quietly. "What do you have to say?"

Emma turned in her seat to glare at him. Graham looked at King beseechingly but no help was coming from that quarter. "Well, I can assure the both of you that this is not something my office takes lightly and I will be looking into this matter–"

"That's a bullshit answer," Emma said, her voice cold.

"Miss Swan, I'll make sure the officer is disciplined appropriately. I promise you that. I don't stand for this sort of thing. Not one bit."

Something in Emma's face changed while King spoke, and her back straightened and tautened almost imperceptibly. It was a moment before she spoke, her eyes never leaving King's. "All right," she said carefully. "But I'll be keeping an eye out. I won't tolerate this. I won't."

"Nor will I, Miss Swan. No word of a lie, I am furious and will deal with Detective Spencer and the Sheriff's office personally."

Emma nodded, all her fury gone now, or displaced by something else. She was calm, pensive. She stood and left after a cordial farewell, giving the pair of them a last troubled look before closing King's office door behind her.

As soon as the door was closed Mayor King's polite face disappeared. The look he gave Graham was so savage that Graham paled and took a step away from him.

"Graham," King said in a pleasant voice that did nothing to hide the poison beneath, "why is it that Miss Swan witnessed such an act? Why did she see three of your men harass and assault Doctor Hopper?"

Graham shifted his weight from one foot to another like a guilty and frightened child. "I–"

"Why, Graham, after everything I've done for you, all the battles I had to fight to keep you here, to protect you – why would you allow something like this to happen?" King was on his feet now and taking slow, menacing steps toward Graham, who was rooted to the spot. King stopped in front of him, his blue eyes cold and unforgiving, so harsh that Graham couldn't meet them and stared instead at the floor.

"I let Spencer get out of control, sir," he said. His voice was soft and he had to fight to keep it from trembling. Finally he looked up into King's eyes. "But I'll fix it, sir. I promise."

King laughed softly, humourlessly. "I've heard that from you before, Graham. Perhaps you've been doing this job for too long…" He gave Graham a cold, appraising look, then turned and resumed his seat behind the desk. Graham remained standing, smart enough to know not to sit unless King invited him to.

"See that you deal with this, Graham, and quickly. This is a delicate operation and I don't need any unnecessary interference, especially from this Swan woman. An outsider could ruin everything."

"Then why bring her in?" Graham said quickly, unable to hold back the question he had been bursting to ask for days.

King peered closely at him and the sheriff met his gaze, refusing to look away this time. Finally King graced him with a thin smile. "Because you failed, Graham. You couldn't find anything on Regina Mills so I had to bring in an outsider to do your job for you. Who knew she'd turn out to be a justice whore…" King shook his head, looking irritable and inconvenienced while Graham flushed with anger.

"I would have gotten her. I would have if you'd given me the time I needed–"

King looked at him and it was enough to shut Graham up. The tension in the room was thick, unbreakable.

"Deal with Spencer. Tonight. Get rid of him, Graham, and don't screw it up or you're next. Swan reporting this to the feds could ruin us, all of us, if they find out what's going on. So you have to decide who's worse, them or me."

There was a long moment of silence between them before Graham bowed his head in submission. "I understand. I'll see it's done tonight."

"See that you do," King said coldly. He looked away from Graham, took up his pen, and started signing papers, callously dismissing the sheriff. Graham slunk out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. King didn't even notice he'd left.

"Quite the show you two put on."

King looked up, startled, and met the cool gaze of Mr. Gold. "Very entertaining." Gold stood in front of King's desk, hands folded over his cane, smiling in that slightly malicious way that King found both irritating and frightening. Gold's spell was still fresh in his mind and he recalled clearly how weak and powerless Gold had made him feel.

But of course King was a strong man, mentally if not physically. He refused to show any fear and then crushed the anxiety inside him until he could look into this man's eyes and smile.

"Mister Gold. What a pleasant surprise. Please, sit down," he said, gesturing to one of the chairs across from his desk.

"Thank you," Gold said, just as pleasantly, and took the seat recently vacated by Miss Swan.

"You look empty-handed," King said pointedly.

Gold smiled again. Always smiling. "Deceptively so." And with a wave of his hand there appeared a cloud of crimson smoke which, when it cleared, revealed a small case. Gold undid the clasps, opened the lid, and turned it around so King could see inside.

Leo leaned forward eagerly. His hungry eyes took in the trinkets, bottles of potions and powders, and tools used in casting spells and then he looked back at Gold. "Is that it?" His voice was cool, collected, but there was a dangerous edge to it that made Gold's lip twitch.

"Just a small sample, I assure you."

King scowled. "This is not the agreement we made."

"Relax, you'll get your money's worth. There's just one little thing I need before I give you your next installment."

Leo King flushed bright red and jumped to his feet. "That was not the arrangement we made, Gold," he said, his anger barely in check. His eyes were wide, a vein in his forehead was pulsing, and he would have frightened anyone, but Mr. Gold sat smiling and unperturbed.

"I just need you to have a look at something, it's an extra perk, you might say, and I wanted to make the offer to you before we continued with our business relationship." Reaching inside his jacket he took out a small book, the sight of which caused King's demeanour to instantly change. He sobered and sat down, resting his chin on his folded hands and looking intently at the book. It was old-looking, a little dusty, with an elegant cover that boasted a large red gemstone – ruby or garnet, it was difficult to tell through the layer of dust. Leo stared at the book, thinking hard, and finally he looked up at Gold.

"What do you want for it?" he asked quietly.

Gold's smile widened. "Oh, nothing much."

Leo narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "But something. What'll it cost me?"

Gold's smile was more gleeful than ever. "Here. Why don't you have a look at it and tell me what you think it's worth?" He put the book on the desk and slid it across to King, who took it with eager hands. He flipped through the pages, his eyes wide, body tense, his whole being focused on the words and images in front of him.

"Spellbooks like these…" King flipped another page, too much in awe to finish his sentence.

"They're very rare, especially after the government passed Prohibition and seized those kinds of books. Very rare, very dangerous, and usually very expensive."

King looked up sharply, his eyes cool and his face shrewd. "_Usually_ very expensive. But you're going to offer me a deal."

"My specialty, dearie," Gold said with a charming smile.

King put the book down, leaned back in his chair, and folded his hands on top of the desk. He turned into Mayor King and was ready to discuss business. "And what will this book cost me, Mr. Gold?"

Professional of not, there was a glint in his eye that King couldn't suppress despite his best efforts. He wanted that book, badly, and Gold knew it. "Nothing much," Gold said with a shrug. "Nothing you'll miss. Just three hairs."

King narrowed his eyes, surprised and suspicious. "Hairs."

"Yes. Your hair, to be specific." He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Ridiculous," King said with a sneer.

Gold shrugged. "If the price is too steep…" He reached across the desk and put his hand on the spellbook. King dropped his hand over Gold's, gripping him tightly, painfully. "Deal," he said, his cold eyes lit with a fire Gold had seen so often in so many people.

Gold pulled his hand out from under King's, and then reached into the inside pocket of his expensive jacket and pulled out a small glass bottle. Snapping his fingers, he used his magic to pluck the hair from King's head; they then appeared in the vial. With a satisfied look on his face Gold waved his fingers and the bottle vanished. King watched all this shrewdly, wondering what this strange man could possibly want with three of his hairs.

"What are you going to do with them?" King asked.

"Tsk, tsk, dearie, that wasn't part of the deal. Enjoy your new toy."

King looked down at the rare and powerful spellbook. Reaching out, grasping it tightly in his hands, cradling it to his chest, he found he didn't care what Gold wanted with those hairs. What use were they anyway he had all the power contained in this book? He kept himself from flipping through the pages then and there, eager to keep this treasure secret, and more importantly, away from Gold, away from everyone until he was safe and alone. For now he satisfied himself by holding it tightly, feeling a heady rush of excitement, a tingling in his belly, and the pounding of his heart.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mayor King," Gold said, rising. He rested his hands on the top of his cane and looked down at King.

"Hold on," King said sharply. He was certainly no fool. Gold raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other man to continue. "When is the rest of my shipment coming?" He gestured to the case on his desk, which was full of potions and trinkets, yes, but there weren't many of them. "This won't last more than a week."

"I told you, it's a sample to make sure you're happy with the product. And are you happy?"

King glanced back at the case. "Yes."

"Good." Gold waved his hand and another, larger case appeared beside the first. "Installments. You pay me a little money and I give you a little magic. Don't use it all at once, dearie, that's the key."

Everything about this man irritated King but he kept his mouth shut, remembering what Gold was capable of. "All right, Gold, but if you break our deal-"

"I've only ever broken one deal in a long history of making them."

King wanted to know what deal Gold squelched out on, since the man was known around the black market for being true to his word and never walking out on a deal. He might twist words, mince meanings,`` and give you something unexpected, but he never broke his word. Although King burned to ask he didn't dare. Everything in the coldness of Gold's face and the darkness in his eyes told King not to.

Gold smiled, his eyes glittering darkly. "I'll see you soon, dearie." Raising a hand he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

...

Later that night and across town Regina Mills was wiping down her bar after a long night of serving drinks. She moved slowly, muscles sore, and was more tired than usual. The atmosphere in the bar tonight was charged, full of tension, and her customers were rowdier than usual, demanding more drinks and pushing both Regina and Ruby to their limits. Regina wasn't sure what was different about tonight but of course she had her suspicions. The sheriff's office was asking more questions, pushing harder on Regina's customers in a concentrated effort to cut off her business and ruin her. Strangely enough, though, it only made her customers flock to the Mill. People wanted to drown their troubles in sweet cider, and as long as the customers came in the door Regina would keep serving them, although she suspected their worries had only just begun.

Coming up beside Regina, Ruby sighed and put a tray of used glasses on the bar. She looked exhausted and rubbed arms that were aching from carrying trays all night.

"Go home, Ruby, I can do this," Regina said.

"Uh uh. You're more tired than I am. And distracted. What's bothering you?"

Regina stood with a frown on her face, carefully folding the cloth she was using to wipe down the bar. "I was just thinking about that woman…"

When she drifted off into thought and didn't offer anything more Ruby raised her eyebrows. "Any particular one?"

"What was her name? The one from this afternoon… Swan."

"Emma Swan."

"That was it. Emma Swan." Regina said the name slowly, her face contemplative, eyebrows drawn together and lips gently pouting.

"What about her?" Ruby said, a little impatiently.

"Well, what is she doing here?"

"You don't buy that writer story either, huh?"

"Not for a minute. I'm suspicious, Ruby. A stranger comes to town now, when Graham and King are harassing my customers and concocting something? No. She could be dangerous."

"Could be," Ruby said with a shrug. "But she doesn't look like much more than a pretty face. So what if she's not a writer? Lots of people have reasons for wanting to keep a part of themselves hidden. You and I know that better than anyone," Ruby said with a significant look at Regina, and with a grimace she picked up the tray of glasses and headed into the kitchen. "Although I will say, she's an excellent tipper. Gave me a couple of dollars," she called before the door swung closed.

Regina frowned and followed Ruby into the kitchen. "What do you mean? Was she in here tonight? I didn't see her."

"No," Ruby said, placing the tray on the counter and transferring the glasses into the sink one by one. "She tipped me for the cider she had this afternoon."

"You charged her for it?" Regina said. This time when she spoke her tone was sharper and she dropped a hand to her hip, frowning at Ruby.

"Yeah," Ruby said with a laugh. "Am I not supposed to charge customers for their drinks? Have I been doing it wrong this whole time?"

"I told her it was on the house. You know I never charge for the first cider." Turning, she put her hand on the swing door and made to leave, the frown still on her face.

"Since when?" Ruby called after her, still laughing.

Regina poked her head back in the door. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, which only made Ruby smile more. "Since… now," she snapped, and went back in the bar. A moment later Ruby heard the clang of the register and she went back into the bar, confused. She found Regina taking money out. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to pay her back."

"Now? It's three in the morning!"

But Regina wouldn't listen. Dashing to the other side of the room she opened the closet, grabbed her coat, and threw it around her shoulders. Ruby stood at the bar staring. "Regina, it's three a.m., what are you doing? It's not safe!"

"I'll be back, don't worry," Regina called, and when the Mill door close behind her Ruby stood with her hands at her side, dumbfounded. This was not like Regina at all, and she was worried. Her heart pounded. She wrenched open the closet and had her red cloak around her shoulders before she remembered Henry, fast asleep upstairs. So with a sigh she took the cloak from her shoulders and hung it back in the closet. The only thing she could do was leave the outside light on for Regina.

As for Regina, she didn't find anything frightening about the night. As she walked she turned up the collar of her long jacket and slipped her hands in the pockets. The nights were growing colder and Regina shivered, thinking of the scarf and gloves stowed neatly away in the closet back at the Mill. Coins jingled musically as they bumped each other in her pocket, singing with each step she took so Regina tightened her hand over them. Even though she wasn't afraid she still stuck to the shadows. After all, it was best to be prudent. The inn wasn't far and she didn't see anyone on her way.

The inn was locked but all it took to open was a wave of Regina's hand. She slipped inside. There was a lit lamp on the desk but no one was around as far as Regina could tell. Granny Lucas slept in an apartment at the back of the building but it was still important to be careful. Stealthily, Regina checked the guestbook and once she had Ms. Swan's room number she silently mounted the stairs.

At the top of the steps Regina turned and her attention was caught by a strip of light shining from under a door. According to the log there was only one guest at the inn. Regina moved quietly to the door, raised her hand, and hesitated. She noticed that her hand was shaking and took a deep, calming breath, composed herself, and knocked.

Suddenly the idea of her being there seemed so childish, so foolish that Regina could think of nothing she wanted more than to run back to the Mill. She'd already taken half a step back when she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Regina stood with her mouth half open while her heart pounded, acutely aware that she must look like an idiot. She certainly felt like one. Emma Swan opened the door and stood in pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, blocking the way into her room and looking quizzically at Regina.

"It's a little late for house calls, isn't it, Regina?"

Regina, for once, was left speechless. "I – I saw the light and I–" She fumbled, felt herself go red, and wished passionately that she hadn't been so stupid as to charge over here.

"Do you want to come in for a drink?" Emma was calm where Regina was flustered. Clearing her throat, Regina nodded. "That would be nice. Thank you."

Emma stepped back and allowed Regina to enter the room, then closed the door behind her. The room was in slight disarray but since Emma was newly arrived Regina couldn't blame her for the clothes tossed everywhere. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the table beside the bed and papers were strewn on the bed itself. Most prominent was a typewriter and a stack of papers on the desk. Regina was immediately drawn to it and picked up one of the pages. Scanning it, she saw it was the beginning of a story. Behind her she heard Emma gathering up the papers on the bed. Regina put the paper back on top of the pile and slipped her hand back in her pocket.

"So you are a writer," she said, smiling as she turned to face Emma.

Emma passed her a glass of whiskey and gave her a look that was a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. "You didn't believe me?"

"Well, small towns, you know? Everyone's suspicious of strangers. I suppose it's cruel but we just want to protect ourselves." Regina took the glass Emma offered but didn't drink. After years of making and drinking cider she found she had somewhat lost her taste for harder drinks.

"Sorry I don't have ice or anything. I tried asking the innkeeper but she told me this wasn't a restaurant so…" Emma shrugged and took a sip of whiskey.

Regina laughed. "That sounds like Granny Lucas all right."

Emma sat down on the bed. "She related to your barmaid? What's her name… Ruby?" She looked levelly at Regina, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"She's Ruby's grandmother. How did you–?"

"Same eyes. They don't get along?"

"There was a feud, several years ago. Ruby's lived with me ever since. They barely speak…"

Emma nodded and Regina couldn't help but notice that Emma was watching her closely. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you didn't come here at three-thirty in the morning to talk about your barmaid."

"No," Regina said, setting down the untouched glass and holding her hands together in front of her. "I promised you the first cider was free so I'm returning our money." She reached into her pocket and held out the money taken from the register while Emma sat with her mouth slightly open, looking surprised.

"It's ok," she said.

Regina smiled and shook her head. "No, I made a promise. And I make good on my promises."

Emma stared at Regina for a moment but Regina didn't budge. Shaking her head Emma stood and took the money from Regina, and when their fingers brushed Emma felt that same electric shock travel up her arm. This time it was stronger. Although Emma was startled Regina's face remained impassive.

"What is that?" Emma asked. She was confused, a little alarmed, and curious.

Regina quirked an eyebrow at her, looking puzzled. "You don't know?"

Regina's reaction seemed to make Emma a little uncomfortable. Drawing away, just a little, Emma gave her a vaguely suspicious look. "No. What is it?"

"Emma, you have magic."

"No I don't," Emma said immediately. Her tone was defensive and she physically withdrew from Regina, taking a step back and looking at her even more darkly.

Regina had been a mother for ten years and this woman was nothing compared to Henry's hard will. Besides, this was obviously someone in denial for a quite a long time, frightened by their gift. "You do, Emma. Quite a strong talent, too, I think. But isn't one of your parents magically inclined?"

"No," Emma said sharply, and downed the rest of her drink, then set the glass on the night table with a heavy thud.

"Oh," Regina said, surprised by Emma's tone. "That's a little unusual for someone with a gift as strong as yours but I suppose it's not unheard of. I can teach you – if you want." Hearing the words pouring out of her mouth Regina was struck by what a foolish thing she'd said. She shut her mouth tightly, wondering how Emma would react.

Emma turned to look at her, green eyes cool, unreadable, the muscles of her shoulders tense. To Regina she looked like an animal deciding whether to fight or run. It was hard for Regina to ignore the tautness in her own shoulders and the fluttering uncertainty in her stomach.

"All right." Emma's voice was slow and unsure but the look in her eyes was determined.

"All right," Regina repeated, smiling despite her efforts to remain cool and composed. "Come by the bar tomorrow, after closing. I go to bed around nine or ten in the morning - but be careful. If Sheriff Graham or any of his men see you, well, he's always though a witch hunt would be his claim to fame. Storybrooke isn't exactly magic-friendly."

"Is anywhere these days?" Emma said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I suppose not, no. But come by. Or don't, it's up to you. But your gift is strong, Emma. You should really use it."

"Yeah but the laws…"

"There's a law against selling magic, not using it," Regina said.

Looking at the dark-haired woman Emma opened her mouth to speak, then dropped her gaze uneasily and rubbed her arms in an anxious gesture. Regina sensed that it was time for her to go and thought she might have stayed too long already. "Just think about it, Emma. And I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this."

"It's all right," Emma said with a tired smile. "Thanks for everything." Together they moved toward the door, which Emma opened for Regina. Regina paused at the doorway, looking back. She gave Emma a last smile and then left.

She left the inn as quietly as she'd entered and then stood standing a moment in the cool air outside. Fall was arriving fast, although the days were still warm. A breeze blew back Regina's hair and a few dead leaves fluttered in the gutter. Regina turned in the direction of home when a howl broke through the darkness, reaching up hungrily toward the white moon hanging like an omen in the sky. The sound of that baleful cry made Regina freeze; the hair on her neck stood up and her stomach turned to ice. She clenched her hands into fists, summoning her magic, waiting, but no other howl came. Slowly Regina relaxed, not completely but enough to turn away and hurry home as quickly as she could, always looking over her shoulder, afraid in spite of herself.

The next day they found the body.


	7. Chapter 7

Henry Mills was an intelligent child, bright and precocious from an early age. He was the darling of many of townspeople, and fiercely protected by his loving mother. Wherever he went there were watchful eyes and guiding hands taking care of him, though none were more watchful than Regina.

Henry snuck out of the house early the morning after Regina visited Emma at the inn, in spite of Regina's and Ruby's warnings. Clutched in his hands was a large, old-looking book about fairytales, one of his most prized possessions.

Henry's first stop was Granny's Diner, where Granny Lucas gave him a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. It was his favourite drink and Granny would give him a free one now and then. Cocoa in hand, Henry walked to his favourite bench, tightened his coat against the chill breeze, and sat down to read. It didn't matter that he'd read this book a thousand times and a thousand times again. He was a bright, imaginative child and enjoyed immersing himself in the rich fantasy stories.

"Hey kid."

Henry was deep into one of his favourite stories, about a Hero and an Evil Queen, and it took him a moment to realise someone was speaking to him. "Hello," he said brightly to the blonde woman wearing a long trench coat and looking at him with a curious expression.

"Hey. Anyone sitting there?" She pointed to the other end of the bench, which was vacant, but Henry understood her to be asking if it was ok if she sat with him.

"Doesn't look like it but watch you don't sit on Jiminy Cricket."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her lips curled a little at the corners, a mixture of puzzlement and amusement on her face. She shrugged a shoulder, allowed him his little joke, and took a seat. In her hand was a brown folder stuffed with papers, which she began to sift through with a frown on her face.

"Those look like police files," Henry said.

Emma snapped the folder shut and looked beadily at Henry.

"Are you a cop?" he asked. His face was chubby with baby fat, his eyes bright and innocent, but Emma saw the curiosity and mischief beneath. Strangely, he reminded her of herself at his age.

"No, I'm a writer."

"Then why do you have police case files?"

"Research," Emma said.

"On Storybrooke residents?"

Emma narrowed her eyes, both suspicious and impressed, although she didn't let him see any hint of approval in her face. "They're not from Storybrooke."

"I saw the town's name on one of the sheets," the boy said, looking at her with a triumphant smile on his face. He was enjoying their contest of wills.

"I wrote it there." Was she really playing mental chess with a ten-year-old kid?

"I doubt it."

"What other evidence do you have to back up your case?" Emma had to fight not to smile.

"None, I guess. Just suspicious is all," he said with a nonchalant shrug, looking pleased.

"Who are you, kid?" Emma said, and though she sounded exasperated the corners of her lips were twitching.

"I'm Henry," he said and smiling, he held out his hand.

Emma shook it, feeling a little dazed. "Emma Swan."

"You're new in town."

"I am."

"How do you like it so far?"

"It's... well, it's more interesting than I thought it would be," Emma said truthfully.

"And you would know, as a cop and all," Henry said. He picked up his book, which he'd put on the bench beside him when Emma sat down.

"I'm not a cop, I'm a writer," Emma said, no longer amused.

"Lady, I lie professionally, and you need to work on your skills," Henry said, getting to his feet. Emma stared at him, wondering where on earth a child like him came from. "Don't tell my mom I was here, ok?" He started to walk away and after a few steps turned back around and called to Emma, "Hey, have you thought about using a code name? How about Operation Cobra?" Grinning, he turned and ran down the street.

Watching him, Emma shook her head and then smiled.

It was still early when Henry came home. After all, it wasn't wise to sneak out for too long when his mom expressly forbade him from sneaking out at all. The sun was bright in the sky and he knew that both his mom and Ruby would be deep asleep. He walked up the path leading to the Mill's side door when something caught his eye and he stopped. There were drops on the stone path, red drops. He glanced up at his mom's bedroom window and then back at the drops. After a moment of hesitation Henry made up his mind and followed the small drips, which formed a trail. As Henry followed them he noticed they grew larger, became more frequent, and then turned into splashes... Henry's heart started to pound. He feared what was coming, and although the horror was building up inside his chest he couldn't help himself.

He followed the trail into the tall grasses where he liked to play in summer. Reaching out, he pushed the grasses back and his hands were slick with blood. Looking down he saw the bloody, mangled corpse lying with twisted limbs face down in the grass.

The cup slid from Henry's numb fingers and splashes of hot chocolate joined the blood. Pale-faced and hands shaking Henry turned and fled back toward the Mill, screaming into the cool morning air. He disturbed several crows as he ran and they threw themselves, shrieking, into the air.

…

The police arrived at the Mill sooner than Regina would have imagined but she was ready to face them. Not for a moment did she believe the corpse had ended up on her property by pure coincidence, and that was enough to invoke her fury. But for Henry to find the body, for her little prince to be exposed to that gruesome sight – it made her indescribably angry. Henry was safe now, but upset. Regina took him to her bed as soon as she found out what happened and consoled him as much as she could. She left him in Ruby's care and came downstairs to try and figure out what she was going to do… But of course the police were already there, several of them standing near the place where Henry said he body was, and more arriving as Regina watched. She stared at them grimly, sure they would try and pin this on her.

She went to them but arrogantly, they ordered her back inside and she grudgingly obeyed, waiting for Graham to arrive. It wouldn't be pretty, she knew. Within minutes her property and her bar were swarming with cops, all demanding answers, insisting on questioning her son. Regina refused to let them anywhere near Henry.

Sheriff Graham came swaggering into the Mill, hands in his pockets, badge gleaming on his hip, and a self-satisfied smile on his face. Regina narrowed her eyes and stood with her hands on her hips, blocking his way to her upstairs apartment. Let them tear apart her bar all they wanted, she could always rebuild, but she'd be damned if she would let them anywhere near her son.

"Regina Mills, a pleasure, as always," Graham said agreeably.

"Get out," Regina said, her upper lip quivering in a snarl. The look in her eyes was dangerous. Around them, the officers glanced between the sheriff and the witch, watching anxiously.

Graham shrugged. "Can't. There's a very serious investigation underway. The mutilated body of a police officer was discovered on your property, Mills, so if I were you I would be a little more cooperative."

Regina blinked, taken aback. "He's a police officer?"

"Was. Officer Spencer, I'm afraid. You and he didn't quite get along, did you?" There was a ghost of a smile on his face and he struggled to keep the smile from widening into a grin, though he certainly didn't bother to quell his smugness.

Regina narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I don't get along with most officers in this town," she said, glaring over at the men ripping apart her business again. "That doesn't mean I would stoop to your level, Graham."

The sheriff's eyes turned cold and his face paled with anger. He stepped forward, his face a few inches from Regina's. For a moment, just a moment, she was afraid. "You'd better watch yourself, Mills. Your time is over. You're finished. So you better watch how you speak to me. I'm stronger than you, you bitch." His voice was a dangerous hiss and he was obviously taking great pleasure in pushing Regina around.

Graham stepped back, letting a small smile creep onto his face. He tugged at his vest and when he moved the light caught his badge and made it gleam brightly. "Now, Regina. Where were you this morning, around four?"

Regina pursed her lips, thinking hard. She had to make a quick decision about whether to lie or not.

"She was with me."

Regina looked over Graham's shoulder and the sheriff turned around. Emma Swan stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her jacket, gazing levelly at Graham. Her expression was hard to read. Regina made sure her own face was blank.

Graham looked sharply at Regina, then turned back to Emma. "What?"

Emma shrugged. "She was with me. In my room at the inn."

"Doing what?" There was an angry, bitter edge to his voice. Regina, looking at Emma behind Graham's back, had a small triumphant smile on her face. Emma didn't look at her at all.

"I forgot something while I was here yesterday. Regina was kind enough to bring it back to me."

Graham breathed in and out rapidly, obviously furious, so close to pinning murder on his long-time enemy, but she had an alibi with the person he was ordered to leave alone, a woman who, for all intents and purposes, was his superior.

Regina watched him carefully, could almost hear the gears in Graham's mind churning. His shoulders were so tense it seemed they would snap. He turned sharply, his eyes wide and frightening, glaring at Regina. "I need to talk to Henry."

"No," Regina said coldly.

"He's a witness. I need to question him."

"Not a chance in hell," Regina growled.

Graham opened his mouth to retaliate when there were footsteps on the stairs and the three looked up at Ruby, pale-faced, who came to stand with Regina. "He's asleep now," she said softly. Regina nodded.

They both looked at Graham and became uneasy. There was a new light in his cold eyes and a small smile began to work its way onto his face. He turned once to look at Emma and then looked back at Ruby, smiling wider. "Ruby. What a pleasure. How've you been keeping?"

She shifted her weight uneasily, glancing first at Regina and then back at Graham. "Fine, I guess."

"Good, good… and where were you this morning at four?"

"I was here, cleaning the bar before bed."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"Don't answer that. Don't answer any of his questions," Regina said sharply, laying a hand on Ruby's arm.

Graham smiled at them both. "It's all right, I'm sure I have everything I need. Good day, ladies." He turned and went to the door, where he paused to look at Emma. "Ms. Swan," he said coolly, and left.

As soon as he was out of the door Emma went to Regina and Ruby, her eyes on the police officers still snooping around. "What was all that about, between you and Graham?" Ruby asked.

"I turned him down for a date," Emma said.

Ruby sighed. "God, I hope he doesn't make too much trouble."

"He put a dead body on my lawn for Henry to find," Regina growled. "If he wants trouble he's got it."

Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise and Ruby nudged Regina as subtly as possible. Regina crossed her arms, her face angry, but she kept her mouth shut. Then she looked at Emma and managed a tight smile. "I'm sorry you had to see all of this," Regina said, gesturing toward the cops, who were trickling out one by one. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was out on a walk and saw all the police. I just wanted to make sure everything was ok."

"Oh," Regina said, smiling a little more warmly. "Thanks. Were fine, or we will be."

"I'm glad. What happened? He mentioned a body…"

"They found a dead police officer on my property," Regina said, looking darkly as the last police officer sauntered out the door. For the first time Regina looked upset, worried about herself, her son, and Ruby. "He's planning something. I know it."

"Who's planning something?" Emma asked.

"Mayor King and his puppet," Ruby said darkly.

"And who's that?"

"Sheriff Graham," Regina said, spitting the words like a vile curse.

"So what about the body, what's going to happen there?" Emma asked.

Regina raked her hands through her hair, her face red, and a vein popping out of her forehead. "God, I could _kill_ someone," she said, turning sharply away, her heels snapping loudly on the hardwood floor.

"Regina, keep your voice down," Ruby said in a low hiss with a pained look out the door where the police were still milling around and casting dark looks inside the Mill's open doors.

Regina turned, gave her a dirty look, and rolled her eyes. Emma looked from Regina to Ruby and then back to the sorceress. "What's going on?"

Regina looked too angry to speak and Ruby kept her lips pursed, watching Regina, obviously not wanting to speak without her friend's permission. Both women watched in silence as Regina slowly regained control. She turned, gave them a strained smile, then sighed and smoothed down her red dress.

"Sheriff Graham has a vendetta against me," Regina said quietly. Her face was still flushed.

"So… he put a dead body on your property," Emma said. She looked slightly bewildered and the other women did not know that she was struggling to understand the murky path she'd taken by stepping into Storybrooke.

"A police officer, dead, on my lawn. This is going to come right back and bite me in the ass," Regina snapped. Turning away, she walked behind the bar, her body rigid with anger. Reaching under the counter she grabbed ingredients and slammed them on the bar one by one. They were small bottles, some with liquids and sealed with corks, while others looked like cooking spices. Emma recognised magical ingredients when she saw them, and Ruby recognised the kind of mood Regina was in. As for the sorceress, she reached under the bar again and then slammed down a simple wooden bowl. Grabbing a green bottle she tore off the cork and poured a careful measure, then took a powder and sprinkled it into her hand. Rubbing it between her fingers, the powder began to glow like embers in a fireplace. Regina dropped it into the bowl and stirred. The mixture sizzled and let off a smell like smoke.

Ruby bit her lip, fighting with herself, and then walked over to the bar with her shoulders squared. "Regina, you have to stop."

The bowl was in Regina's hands and she was slowly swirling it, and as she did a thick, potent purple smoke rose out of the bowl. Ruby reached across the bar and took her friend's wrist gently. "Regina, you have to stop," she said again, this time more firmly.

"Do you really think I'm going to let them get away with this?" Regina's voice was powerful, commanding, queenly. Ruby held her friend's wrist and her gaze until Regina finally rolled her eyes and sighed. Pulling away, Regina slammed down the bowl and stormed out of the room and up the stairs to her apartment.

"Should we -?" Emma said, pointing after Regina with a concerned expression.

Ruby shook her head, looking tired. "It's best to just leave her be," she said, slumping back against the bar. She sighed and Emma came over and peered into the bowl, which was still smoking slightly.

"What kind of spell is this?" she asked.

"I don't know but it looks dangerous," Ruby said. She looked at the bowl suspiciously and didn't seem to want to be anywhere near Regina's potion. Emma, however, was curious and picked up the bowl, swishing the liquid around and wondering what it did. She may have been a bounty hunter with a specialty in hunting down magical people and creatures, but she didn't know enough about magic to be able to detect whatever this was.

"I have to go," Emma said. "Tell Regina I'm sorry and – and to be careful," she added.

"I will. Thanks," Ruby said.

Emma walked to the open door and hesitated, turning to look up the stairs where Regina had disappeared, and then she left.

Walking down the path leading away from the Mill Emma looked over at the police officers gathered around the crime scene, notebooks in hand and scowls on their faces. They looked angry, Emma guessed because their partner was dead at their feet. Standing away from the sombre group of officers was Sheriff Graham, thumbs hooked inside his vest. He looked… almost cheerful. Emma paused, watching him, and when he looked over and met her gaze she felt a pang in her stomach and was suddenly nauseated. Emma shivered and continued walking.


	8. Chapter 8

Regina opened the bar that night. She opened every night, except for special occasions, but even though all the police were gone except one lonely man guarding the roped off crime scene, her customers didn't come. Regina even kept the doors open to the chill night, with a spell cast to keep the bar warm and the lights bright, but still no one came. A few stood outside to gawk, trying to get a look at the place where the body had been, but Regina shooed them away angrily. When it was fully dark Archie came by, thankfully not to gossip but to check up on Regina.

"I can't stay long," he said with a frightened look in the direction of the police officer. Even though they sat together in the bar Archie still had a panicky, shuffling look to him that was getting to Regina and making her edgy. She badly wanted to snap at him to just keep still but she held her tongue. These were frightening times for everyone, after all. "I just wanted to see how everyone was coping, you and Henry and Ruby."

"We're ok, Archie. Henry's a little shaken but I think he'll be fine."

"He was the one that found the body?" He sipped from the glass of hot apple cider Regina had given him, with a little tonic to soothe the nerves.

Regina nodded, pressing her lips together, her eyes flashing dangerously, outraged at the reminder of what her son witnessed. "I can't get over the feeling someone put that body there to try and set me up and run me out of town. Or worse."

Archie cast another anxious look at the door. "It was Spencer."

Regina blinked and raised her eyebrows. "Spencer murdered himself on my lawn to try and set me up. What sense does that make?" she said, a little curtly.

Archie was shaking his head. "No, Spencer is dead and he – well he – he was questioning me the other day…" Archie hung his head, his cheeks flushing as red as his hair. "What if they think I killed him?"

Regina smiled for the first time in what felt like a long time, though the expression was a little tight. Reaching across the table she squeezed Archie's hand to try and comfort him. "They won't come after you, Archie," she said firmly. "They'll come after me first, and I'll be ready, if you help me."

He looked up at her, his face deeply troubled, and then he dropped his gaze and wouldn't meet Regina's eyes. Finally he sighed and bowed his head in resignation. "Fine. Fine. I'll get it, but only because I can't do this anymore. I can't live in fear."

"Regina smiled again. "Welcome to the revolution," she said wryly. "And thank you. You're a brave man, and a good friend."

He didn't look like he believed the first but he spoke before Regina could say any more. "I don't know how long it'll take, and I'll have to be extra careful with everything that's going on, and with that Swan woman nosing around…"

Regina leaned back in her chair and eyed Archie shrewdly. "What do you mean?"

"She's been talking to people, asking a lot of questions…"

"What kind of questions?"

Archie looked more nervous than ever. Mayor King and Sheriff Graham were one thing, but Regina Mills in a temper was an entirely different beast. He put his cider on the table and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Well… She's been asking about magic, and King and about… about the black magic incident."

Regina straightened in her chair, her attention caught. Archie was reminded of a cat on the hunt. Several months ago some people had been caught using black market spells, dangerous stuff, and they needed to be hospitalised. After, they were sent to prison. Everyone knew about it and people still gossiped about it, trying to decide exactly what happened. No one knew how it happened, or where the illegal and dangerous goods had come from, but at the time everyone blamed Regina, openly or behind closed doors. Even her loyal friends and supporters suspected her, all but Ruby and Henry of course. Regina's heart still ached for Henry, who used to come home from school upset about the other children saying horrible things about his mother. Of course the incident was quietly hushed up and the police closely guarded any information about it, and no one wanted to talk about it with the sheriff's beady eye on them.

"What's she been saying?" Regina asked.

"Nothing about you," Archie said, quickly reassuring her. "She mostly wants to know what happened, she's digging around, kind of like a private eye."

All Regina's tension faded away. She threw back her head and laughed, the noise sounding loudly in the empty room. "I'm sure she's just a curious tourist who heard a few rumours," she said in an offhand way. But she didn't feel so certain.

Archie didn't look convinced. "She isn't who she says she is, and I don't know what she's after but you need to be careful, Regina."

"I am careful," Regina said with a bite in her voice.

"That's not how Ruby puts it," Archie said under his breath.

Regina eyed him beadily. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Just please, Regina. Be careful."

Regina scoffed. "I have bigger things to be worried about than Emma Swan."

He still didn't look convinced but he didn't try to push her. "I'm going to go before the police come back." Archie stood and Regina followed and walked him to the door.

"How long do you think it'll be? I can't wait long."

Archie stood with his hat in his hands. He already told her he wasn't certain but he tried to give a rough estimate since she was so anxious to know. "A week. Maybe two."

Regina nodded. "Good. Thank you Archie."

He nodded and stepped out into the night. "Good night, Regina. And say hello to Henry for me. Tell him if he wants to play some baseball he knows where to find me. And Regina, stay sharp."

"I always am. Good night Archie."

…

Restless, Emma couldn't stand being alone in her room anymore. Pacing, thinking about everything she'd come across in Storybrooke so far, sleep eluded her. There were no answers, only more questions. Finally, in frustration, Emma snatched her coat and stormed out of the inn. The cool night air was soothing on her skin and a gentle breeze blew back her hair. She was walking aimlessly but a shiver of unease ran down her spine and she touched her fingers to the gun on her hip. She never went without it now, nor the knife slipped inside her boot. It was impossible to tell who to trust in this place. Too many secrets, too many lies.

While she walked deeper into the heart of town she noticed a prickling of her skin that had nothing to do with the cool night air, and the tingle of unease refused to leave. It was all she could do to keep from drawing her gun as a precaution against – she wasn't even sure.

Drawing closer to the downtown core she started to hear the voices of a large crowd and saw the flickering light of fire. Emma darted into the shadows, edging around the corner and faced a large mob.

It was like something out of a fairytale. There were dozens of people gathered in the streets, some of them carrying torches, shouting in outrage, and looking ready to rampage. Emma's eyes were drawn to the person as the centre of the swarm. Standing on top of some sort of platform, gesturing violently and yelling to the crowd, was Sheriff Graham. His words were lost over the noise of the mob. Whatever was going on, Graham was the root of it, Emma was at least sure about that. Keeping her hand near the butt of her gun Emma moved forward and grabbed the arm of the nearest person.

"What's going on?" Emma said, fighting to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

The person whose arm she grabbed, a short, surly-looking man with a beard, turned to glare at Emma and his face was so ferocious she took her hand away and thought again of her gun.

"We're hunting the werewolf before it kills us all." Emma heard him easily despite the crowd's noise.

"Werewolf," Emma repeated, her eyes sliding back to Graham.

"Yeah, the one that killed George Spencer," the bearded man said, and turned his back on her.

Emma saw Graham punch his fist in the air and cry out, a scream that was echoed tenfold by the mob, and as if given a silent order the group stormed forward and Emma was swept along with them. She tried to disentangle herself from the flow but when she turned around she found the crowd closed in around her. She was trapped, pulled inexorably on with the tide. For the first time in a long time she was genuinely terrified. Give her a vampire of a conjurer any day but there was no beast more dangerous than a frightened human, let alone an entire mob of them. And as for the werewolf… well, Emma had an idea who was about to pay for George Spencer's death. Emma fought to get to the front of the crowd, avoiding torches and crude weapons, but couldn't make much headway.

As Emma dreaded, the mob turned toward the Mill, and like one animal the people stomped their feet, roaring and calling for blood. Emma fought harder than ever to push to the front and ever so slowly she was able to edge forward.

There were lights on inside the Mill and despite Regina's supposed power, against an entire mob of angry people the idea that she could protect herself seemed foolish. Graham led the way, hands clenched into fists and a wild look on his face. The front door of the Mill was thrown open with a thunderous bang and a hush fell over the crowd as, dressed all in black with a vicious look on her face, Regina Mills strode forward to face her accusers. Emma shoved people aside, fighting hard to get to the front and stop this madness before someone got hurt.

"This is lunacy! Go home," Regina called to the crowd. Like Graham, her hands were clenched into fists. She stood in front of the crowd with her shoulders squared and her head held high, surveying them as royalty surveys the rabble. Her eyes ranged among them, lingering over each person and taking in the familiar faces of her bar patrons, but if she was hurt by the betrayal not a flicker of it showed on her face.

"We're not going anywhere," Graham said, stepping forward and bellowing so the entire group could hear. They answered with a roar and scream of their own, stamping their feet and waving torches. Emma had to quickly duck to avoid being hit by someone's fist. She felt a hand in the middle of her back and was shoved forward, causing her to stumble into someone. Emma gave a hasty apology before turning to glare at the person that shoved her.

She met the hard, beady eyes of Granny Lucas, who has a ferocious look on her face and an old crossbow in her hands. When she spoke her voice was a growl. "Keep moving, girl, before they kill my Ruby."

"Ruby? But I thought – Regina –"

"Regina? Ha! Just keep moving." Granny's hands tightened on the crossbow and that was enough to convince Emma.

"Hand over the monster, Regina," Sheriff Graham said when the crowd was quieter.

"The only monster here is you, Graham," Regina called back. Emma, with Granny Lucas close behind, caught her first glimpse of Regina, standing against the open doors of the bar, the warm light from the Mill streaming behind her and outlining her like an aura. There was a sense of power radiating from her; Emma could feel it crackling in the air. The whole atmosphere was charged, anger, fear, and bloodlust brewing together to make a dangerous mix.

"Keep moving," came Granny Lucas' hard voice in Emma's ear. She felt a sharp poke in the back and Emma turned around to glare at Lucas, but was met with a steely look. Turning back, Emma continued to push through the crowd until she reached the front. Regina's face was lit by the flickering torchlight but her eyes were cast in shadow. If she saw Emma she didn't acknowledge her.

"Hand over the werewolf, Regina. This monster already murdered one of our own. Are we going to let her murder again?" He roared the last to the crowd and again was met with stamping and screams. Emma reached automatically for her gun, fearing this angry mob would turn into a murderous stampede.

"That monster, as you call her, has a name." Granny Lucas pushed past Emma and ran to face the crowd, her hands tightly holding the crossbow. She faced them with coldness and a lack of fear. She looked almost as frightening as Regina. "Her name is Ruby and she's my granddaughter, and anyone that wants to get at her has to go through me first," and with this threat in the air Lucas raised her crossbow and pointed it at Graham's heart.

He shook his head, smiling at her snidely. "Foolish old woman," he said, his lips parting in a sneer. "Put down your toy. This beast has killed one-"

"Where's your evidence?" Regina said, her voice cracking in the air like a whip. She moved swiftly to stand beside Granny Lucas, the two of them sharing a brief glance, two enemies united in a common struggle, before returning their attention to Graham.

"The man was mauled by the jaws of a wild animal, as the medical examiner stated in his report. By a beast like a wolf, and yet not a wolf," Graham said. He was pacing a little now, his hands on his pockets and a grin threatening to break out over his face. He was clearly enjoying himself. "And everyone here knows your darling granddaughter Ruby is a werewolf. Runs in the family, doesn't it Granny? Only _she_'_s_ a killer, a murderer, who ripped the flesh from a man as though it was paper, who will kill and kill again. Who's safe from the bloodlust of a werewolf?" He was addressing the crowd now, his arms spread like a gospel preacher, and their devotion to him was sickening. "What about your children, once so free to walk the streets? Which one of you is next?"

They were screaming again and Emma fought the urge to cover her ears against the horrifying sound. They started to throw things and as the first projectiles flew at Regina and Lucas, the sorceress raised her hand. The objects hovered in midair until the people stopped throwing them, and as Regina lowered her hand the items fell to the ground with a dull clatter.

"You see? Two monsters under one roof, one protecting the other. Did Ruby murder of her free will, I wonder, or was it by your bidding, Regina?" Graham roared.

Regina's control, usually so precise, snapped. Her hands caught bright, burning flame and the look on her face was ugly. Without thinking Emma came forward, her heart racing so fast she thought it would explode.

"Stop. Stop!" She was desperate but they wouldn't listen. Grabbing the gun from its holster she raised it into the air and fired. The shot was deafening and the crowd jumped and screamed with fright. Emma half-hoped they would scatter but after a confused moment they gathered themselves together.

"What are you going to do? What's your plan? To drag this woman – this _person_ – into the streets and murder her like an animal? This isn't right! This isn't fair!" Emma was hardly aware of how angry and horrified she was, and barely noticed that the people had become quiet. "This is murder and one crime doesn't justify another. There's no justice here, not without proper evidence, and certainly not without a trial." She glared at them all, her chest heaving.

Behind Emma came the sound of footsteps and she glanced over at Regina, who had no forgiveness on her face while she surveyed the crowd, though thankfully she'd subdued her fire. Granny Lucas came up on her other side, crossbow still raised.

"You have a choice to make," Emma said, and her voice was calmer now, though still shaky. "You can make the right one or the wrong one, it's as simple as that."

Graham looked furious and stepped toward her with a snarl. "This beast murdered a police officer, and my friend. And you want us to let her go?"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him and her voice was dangerous when she spoke. "I can tell when someone's lying, Graham," she said in a low voice.

His lip quivered in an angry growl but he was smart enough not to press the issue in front of a crowd of witnesses. "You want a trial, Miss Swan? Fine. A trial it is. Let's see how well Ruby Lucas faces against a panel of her equals, shall we?"

The crowd erupted again into hissing and Regina, Emma, and Lucas turned around to see what had stirred their fury. Walking toward them, obviously frightened but doing her best to keep calm, was Ruby. Regina moved to stand in front of her, blocking her from the crowd, and hissed, "Ruby, no, what do you think you're doing? They're here to kill you."

"I won't let them hurt you, any of you. It'll be all right."

"No, Ruby, it won't be. They'll rip you limb from limb," Granny Lucas said.

It was as if years of conflict never happened. Ruby smiled at her grandmother, tears in her eyes and deeply afraid, and reached out to hold her grandmother's arm. "It'll be all right," she said, and Emma didn't need her superpower to detect the lie.

"Here's the beast now," Graham said to the crowd, and it was all the trigger they needed to unleash their fear and hatred. Screaming abuse, they hurled rocks at Ruby and the others, and this time Regina wasn't fast enough to stop them. The sharp edge of a rock caught Ruby's cheek and drew blood, while another hit Emma's shoulder.

"_Get her_!" Graham screamed viciously, and the crowd charged forward.

"Run, Ruby, _run_!" someone cried. Regina threw out her arm and a wall of fire appeared. It gave them enough time to turn around and flee. Emma saw Ruby take her wolf form and disappear into the night while Regina grabbed a hold of the other two, her grip so tight Emma thought her arm would go numb, and dragged them into the Mill. Emma and Granny Lucas slammed the doors shut but the mob didn't bother with them, rushing instead after Ruby.

"Is she –" Emma started, bent over and gasping for breath.

"She can outrun them in her wolf form," Lucas said, hurrying to a window and watching the citizens of Storybrooke hunt down her granddaughter. Though her voice was certain her face was painted with grief. Regina, on the other hand, was a tower of fury. The lamps on the wall exploded and the fires inside flared huge and hot and Regina paced, her heels snapping sharply on the floor, her face white as chalk and deadly, oh so deadly. Emma saw why King feared her.

"Regina," Emma said but the woman seemed not to have heard. "Regina," Emma said again, louder this time, and reaching out carefully she touched Regina's arm. Her skin was hot to the touch. The sorceress turned sharply to look at Emma and the look in her eyes terrified Emma.

And then the anger crumbled away and Regina sank to the floor, her face in her hands, sobbing. Emma stared, not sure what she should do, and slowly she knelt beside Regina and patted her on the back. "I wish I knew what to do," she said quietly.

Regina quickly regained control of herself and wiped the tears from her face. "Not much we can do. They'll catch her or they won't. They'll kill her if they do. And it's all my fault."

"I told that girl not to use her wolf powers. It was what we argued about and why she left. But she's headstrong, my Ruby, she wouldn't listen and now…" Granny's voice drifted off and she sighed heavily, as though her grief was too great for tears.

"This isn't her fault, it's Graham's," Emma said, looking coolly at Lucas.

"Of course it is," Granny snapped. "Think I don't know that, girl? Graham's like a cancer on this town. Should be the mob chasing _him_ out of town, not the other way around." Her face was bitterly angry and she turned sharply away, going back to her vigil at the window.

Emma helped Regina to her feet and Regina managed a small smile and a mumbled thank you. "You realise neither of you can go back to the inn now. The whole town will be calling for your blood."

"I'll be fine," Emma said.

"Stay here," Regina said. "After what you did for us it's the least I can do."

"No, really, I–"

"Emma," Regina said, giving her a look, and Emma realised that things were drastically out of her control. She sighed and nodded.

"I'll be fine," Lucas said, her voice gruff. "They want a piece of me they can try and take one." She held up the crossbow and then sat down at one of the tables.

"You can have Ruby's room for now," Regina said. "Come on." She gestured to the stairs and when Emma turned to follow her she saw something that made her jaw drop in astonishment. Standing at the foot of the stairs in a pair of pyjamas, looking confused and frightened, was the young boy she met the other day. The one reading fairytales who kept calling her a cop. What was his name again?

"Henry," Regina said, her voice full of concern.

"I heard all the noise. Mom, what's going on?"

Regina went to him while Emma stared, her mouth gaping, full of horror and astonishment, her belly writhing with guilt and a mess of other emotions she couldn't identify. Meanwhile Regina wrapped her arms around her son, holding him close, doing her best to soothe him.

"You have a son," Emma said.

Regina looked at her. "Yes. Emma, this is Henry. Henry, this is my friend Emma."

"We met. The day I found the – the body. I snuck out. I'm sorry."

"That's all right," she said, smoothing his hair. "It's all right."

No one seemed aware of the turmoil Emma was in. All of her life she'd dreamt of a family, of parents who loved her, who hadn't abandoned her as a newborn. She dreamt of being loved and held but of course thirty years later that dream was over. The kid… God, he reminded her so much of herself… Emma had been hired to find evidence on Regina and bring it to King but no one told her about the kid. She never had a family growing up; was she going to tear him away from his?

"The father?" Emma asked, pointing stupidly, barely aware of how rude she sounded.

Henry shrugged. "I don't have a dad. Never needed one," he said simply, and he cracked a smile.

Emma felt sick. Ignoring the protests from Regina and Granny Lucas she threw open the door and hurled herself into the cold night air, gasping for breath and hurrying as far from this place as she could get.


End file.
